Reset
by UNrequitedAmbitions
Summary: Stan and Kyle left South Park five years ago. When Kyle gets a letter, drawing him back to his hometown and all of the people he left behind, he rediscovers relationships he thought were dead and begins to realize how little he knows about himself. Kyman
1. My Life Now

**A/N: **Hello everyone^^ I have had the idea for this story bouncing around for a long time, and I only recently managed to sit down and type out a chapter. This has a much different feel than anything else I've written, so I hope everything has turned out okay so far.

Just warning all of you out there who aren't huge fans of style, it starts out with that pairing. But don't worry, it's definitely not a Stan/Kyle fic. Just try to make it through the first chapter and a half and you won't be hearing much from Stan.

Anywho, I hope you guys give it a chance despite the nauseating fluffiness of this chapter- I promise this fic really will have some substanence, it's all just a matter of working up to it.

ENJOY!^^

* * *

The only thing I truly hated about Seattle was the rain. That constantly moist, dewy impression always hanging in the air. So palpable I felt wet every time I stepped outside. This might sound crazy coming from someone who grew up in South Park. Yes, it snowed there damn near all the time, but I could never shake the certainty that every time it was raining in Seattle, it was snowing in South Park. It plagued my thoughts every time I had to reach for my umbrella, or threw on my orange and green rain jacket that had replaced my winter coat. The foreign familiarity of it nearly drove me mad.

Don't misunderstand me- the last thing I wanted was to go back to living in that dead end town. The thoughts of having to look at my parents every day for the rest of my life sounded nothing short of suicide- there's just something about snow that will always be a part of me. It's so deeply imbedded into the comfort mentality of my brain that I feel almost lost without its constant presence. Stan kept telling me that I needed to give it more time, that I would soon grow to find just as much of that soothing essence in the rainy days there as the snow in South Park. I guess I just gave up, though. I guess I couldn't force myself to keep believing that. I guess I thought that five years should have been enough.

Some people just aren't born with that easily moldable frame of mind that can adapt to changes in their lives. Some people don't realize that what they truly wanted all along was the thing that had run from. Some people simply need that reset button, to give it all a second chance.

* * *

"Kyle?" Stan's voice rang from the living room, sounding tired. I shook myself and looked away from our bedroom window, breaking my dull stare at the rain pouring down in thick sheets outside. "Did you remember to take that rent check in?"

I glanced at the check sitting on my dresser drawer and bit my lip in worry. I had meant to take it in that morning, but I'd woken up late and forgotten. "Uh, not yet. I can take it now, if you want?"

Stan sighed as he entered the bedroom. He was rubbing his forehead in exhaustion, making me feel even worse. "Kyle, it's already late. You realize that if we keep this up, they're probably going to kick us out?"

I gazed apologetically up at him, silently cursing myself. "I know, I'm sorry. I just forgot this morning- I was running late for work."

Stan nodded, but still looked slightly irritated. I walked slowly up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him close so we could rest our foreheads together.

"I'll take it right now, okay?" I whispered against his face, watching with amusement as it turned faintly red. It never ceased to amaze me how Stan still managed to blush whenever I touched him.

"All right," he nodded in agreement, his voice loosing its edge. "I'm sorry I got upset it's just-" He paused for a moment to smile down at me. "I guess I didn't realize how hard it actually was to live on your own."

I smiled softly and pulled him a bit closer. "You're not on your own." I reminded, giving him a quick peck before stepping back. I snatched up the envelope on my dresser, giving Stan a sheepish look as he rolled his eyes at me.

"I'll be right back." I assured before darting out of the room.

Stan and I lived on the fourth floor of a very low grade apartment building in Seattle, Washington. It wasn't much to brag about, but it was the best two twenty-three year olds could do when one of them attended college and worked a part time job at a coffee house and the other worked in a publishing company.

Stan and I were the only two of our old group to leave South Park after high school. We had promised each other that we weren't going to end up like our parents- stuck in that intolerant mountain town for the rest of our lives. Neither of us kept in touch with any one from our hometown, and neither of us ever talked about it. Maybe we thought it would make it less real if we never mentioned anything from our past lives.

"Hey, Kelly!" I yelled, tapping on the thick glass window that separated the office in the lobby from the hallway. Kelly was one of the apartment lobby workers- the people we paid our rent to. She was a highly attractive woman- tall, brunette, and had the longest, most shapely legs you would ever see. If I wasn't so invested in Stan, and if she didn't already know we were, uh, "involved", I definitely would have asked her out by now. Is that atypical?

"Kyle!" Her voice was muffled through the glass as she smiled cheerfully at me and came to unlock the door. "I was just getting ready to head home for the day- what are you doing down here so late?"

I held up my check and gave her a sheepish grin. "Forgot the rent again."

Kelly made a tsking noise in the back of her throat and gave me a playful shove on the arm. "What are we going to do with you two?"

I wondered vaguely if she would flirt so blatantly with me if she didn't know I was dating a man. She smiled brightly at me and snatched the check out of my hands.

"Don't worry, I'll pretend like I lost it- Mr. Derk doesn't have to know it was late." She winked at me as she placed the envelope in the top drawer of her desk.

"Thanks so much, Kelly." I smiled gratefully at her before turning to leave.

"You should check the mail," she suggested as she pulled on her sleek, black raincoat. "I think I saw them put something in your box earlier today."

"It's probably just junk." I waved a dismissive hand at her and she giggled to herself.

"I'll see you around, Kyle. Tell Stan I said hi." She pulled her coat collar up around her face before disappearing down the hall, towards the entrance of the building.

I checked my pockets for my keys before heading towards the mail room. I really wasn't expecting anything important- Stan and I got in the habit of never checking our mail, since all we ever got was junk.

I sighed to myself as I entered the dark, stale room and searched for our box number.

"One thirty two… one thirty two…" I mumbled as I squinted at the small black letters, finding it hard to read them without my glasses.

I finally found the right box and shoved my key inside. When I opened the little metal door, I cursed as an overflow of letters came pouring out. I bent over quickly to pick them up off the ground and grabbed the rest from the mail box before slamming the door shut. I shoved the thick stack of papers into my back pocket as I climbed the four flights of stairs back to my apartment.

"Hi." Stan greeted quietly as I walked into the living room, throwing my keys on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Were they still there?"

"Yeah," I replied, rubbing my eyes tiredly. "Kelly was there. She told me to go check the mail box."

Stan cringed at the thought. "You didn't, did you?"

I pulled out the three inch stack of papers and Stan laughed quietly. "Should we go through it?"

I leaned forward a bit to look into the kitchen, trying to read the time on the microwave. It was almost midnight. Tomorrow was Saturday, so I didn't have to go into work at my secretary job until later.

"If we don't do it now, we never will." I shrugged and gave Stan half the pile. He starred at me for a moment with a fragile smile on his face before sifting through the letters.

My entire stack was junk mail except for one cell phone bill. Stan had thrown a credit card bill onto the cushion next to him, and I was about to pick it up when I saw him frown down at the unopened envelope he was holding. It looked like the address had been hand written.

"What is it?" I questioned, leaning over until our shoulders were pressed tightly together.

"It's… for you." He answered slowly as he handed it to me.

I starred confusedly down at the return address before ripping it open, almost tearing the paper inside in my haste.

_Dear Kyle,_

My breath caught in my throat as I recognized the hand writing as my younger brother's.

_I know that you probably don't care, and you may not even read this letter, but I couldn't go through with this without at least trying to contact you. Mom and dad have told me over and over that you don't care, like a crappy mantra playing on repeat at every turn, but I don't want to give up on you. I want to believe that you still care. So, I'm writing to tell you that I'm getting married in three weeks. You don't know who she is, but I'd love it if you did. Kyle, if you care even the tiniest bit, come to my wedding. And, if you don't, I can leave it at that. I can finally let go. _

_Love,_

_Ike Broflovski_

I sat in silence for a good three minutes after I finished reading, simply starring blankly at my brother's messy handwriting. It took me a few seconds before I realized Stan was trying to talk to me.

"…was it? Is it your parents?" I set the paper down and turned slowly to look into his cobalt eyes, the dimness of the room making them look especially dark.

"Ah- no. It's my brother." I replied, folding the letter up with shaking hands and shoving it back into its envelope.

"Your brother?" Stan gave me a puzzled look.

"Yeah. He's, uh… getting married." I looked up at the ceiling, down at the ground, and at the hands in my lap until Stan grabbed my face and made me look at him.

"Kyle, you have to go." He stated, like it was an undeniable fact.

My hands curled up into loose fists as I glared half heartedly at him. "I can't, Stan. I don't have the money, and you know that if I left I would never come back. Seeing my brother would be too much- I can't leave him again."

"Kyle! Your little brother is getting married. He wants you there!" Stan placed his hands on my shoulders and shook me desperately. "You have to go. I won't let you miss it."

I turned my head away and shook it slightly, starring determinedly at the ground. "I can't, Stan."

"Hey," Stan gripped my chin gently and made I let my gaze fall into his eyes. They were smoldering with a dark intensity I had only seen a few times in my life, making me shiver. "I trust you to come back," he smiled slightly and pushed a springy curl away from my face. "And I'll help you pay, if you need it."

"I couldn't let you do that." I demanded weakly, subconsciously realizing that I'd already lost the battle.

"Shut up." He smiled lovingly at me and his eyes swam with stars, making them shimmer as he leaned in closer and kissed me. I smiled against him and grabbed the back of his neck as I returned the kiss, pushing him back until he was lying down.

We kissed until we were both too tired to move anymore, and I sunk down on top of him, resting my cheek against his chest.

"When will you leave?" He asked softly as he combed his fingers through my hair.

"Probably next week. If I'm going to go, I want to be there for everything." I replied sleepily as I let my eyes drop shut, focusing on the feeling of Stan's fingers massaging my head.

"You'll have to let the office know tomorrow that you need time off." Stan suggested, his motions slowing as his eyes began to droop.

I snuggled closer to Stan and nodded against his chest. "Yeah, I'll tell 'em tomorrow… er, something." I slurred.

Stan smiled and let his hand rest in the tangles of my hair. "You'll have fun… glad you're going."

I frowned a bit and clutched onto the collar of Stan's shirt. "Love you." I whispered as I nuzzled his neck.

"You, too." Stan wrapped an arm across my back as his breathing began to slow, and we both fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning, I woke up with my face shoved in-between the back of the couch and Stan's shoulder. I groaned and lifted my head to rest my chin on his chest, smiling to myself at the peaceful look on Stan's face as he slept.

"Stan." I whispered, bringing a hand up to stroke his cheek. His lips twitched into a smile and his eyes opened slowly.

"Morning." He said quietly as he slowly sat up, pulling me into his lap. "How did you sleep?"

"Not very well." I admitted, rubbing at my sore neck. "Let's not make a habit of falling asleep on the couch."

"Will do." Stan nodded as he placed a quick kiss on my forehead. He lifted me up by my waist and sat me on the cushion beside him as he stood up. "What time is it?" He questioned as he stretched, making his tight, blue shirt ride up his stomach.

"Uhm," I swallowed thickly and looked away, at the clock. "Just past six."

"We actually have time for breakfast this morning." Stan raised an eyebrow at me and smirked playfully.

"I'm not cooking, Stan. You know what happened last time." I held up my hands defiantly as he chuckled.

A few weeks ago, Stan had decided that he did too much of the cooking, and demanded that I make him dinner. I fucked up so bad that the smoke detectors went off, soaking the entire apartment and alerting the fire department. Needless to say, I was embarrassed enough by that one time to give it up for good.

"Fine." Stan rolled his eyes and scratched his stomach lazily as he shuffled towards the kitchen.

I stood up and followed him, taking a seat on the tiny island counter so I could watch him work. Stan was pretty fucking hot when he cooked, especially since he was an extremely messy person. He always ended up with flour or batter all over his face, and it was too adorable to miss.

"I hate it when you watch me." Stan commented as he glanced nervously at me. "It makes me spill things like, twice as much."

I smirked at him and shrugged. "Good. I think it's cute."

Stan blushed and looked away quickly, pulling down a bowl from the cabinet. He mumbled something along the lines of 'not cute' under his breath, and I just smiled. He was so easily embarrassed.

I hopped off the counter as he started mixing a variety of things in a large bowl. He stiffened slightly, but didn't turn around, trying his best to ignore me and continue stirring.

"Am I making you nervous?" I inquired, smirking to myself as he froze for a second.

"No." He muttered before continuing his now-erratic stirring. A small glob of the batter hit him in the face and he flinched.

I chuckled lowly and rested my chin on his shoulder. "Are you sure?" I purred into his ear, loving how it turned his entire face a dark red.

"Yes!" He squeaked defiantly, trying to jerk away from me. I secured my arms around his waist, though, halting his movement.

He gasped almost inaudibly as I licked away the fleck of batter on his cheek and giggled at his flustered face.

Stan groaned in frustration. "You can just make your own breakfast from now on." He threatened as I started massaging his sides.

"Really?" I drew out the word in his ear, making him shiver as I worked my hands lower, over his hips.

"God dammit, Kyle!" He swore in disorientation as my fingers moved over his stomach, kneading his abs.

"What's the matter? I thought I wasn't making you nervous." I took a step closer to him, pressing myself against his back as he struggled for words, dropping his whisk into the bowl of batter he'd been mixing.

"Okay," Stan's voice came out in a breathy whisper as he closed his eyes, trying his best to stay focused. "All right- that's enough." He stated, turning around and pressing his hands against my chest to shove me away, an angry glare set on his face.

"New rule," Stan started in an authoritative voice, placing a hand on his hip. I cocked an eye brow at his girly stance, but he ignored it. "You are no longer allowed in the kitchen while I'm cooking."

"You are not serious." I declared, smirking at his tone.

"I am dead serious, Kyle. I can't get anything done with you groping me!" He accused, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation.

"Aw, come on, man! It's not my fault you look good when you cook." I nearly shouted, immediately turning red after realizing I had admitted my only reason for loitering in the kitchen.

Stan raised an inquisitive brow at me, but didn't say anything, simply pointed towards the living room.

"Fine, I'll just go… take a shower." I winked suggestively at him as I made to walk away, but he wasn't fazed. He just turned his back on me and resumed his cooking.

I humphed in dejection as I made my way back to the bedroom, already dreading the coming day. I was not looking forward to asking my boss for time off of work. I knew it wasn't going to go well- I only had four days of vacation time saved up and I was asking for two weeks off? Yeah, right. I'm just a secretary, it's not like I'm irreplaceable. But I had always been one for standing up for what I believe in. And seriously, if someone could really be so cold-hearted as to deny their struggling, barely twenty-year-old employee their plea to watch their only brother walk down the aisle, then fuck them. The job was shit anyways. All I did was listen to whiny, rejected authors dramatically retell their life's tragedies, and put up with the pussies who worked as assistants to the executives constantly giving me shit. Apparently there is a very popular hazing process among the male secretary line of business that I was never informed- or at least those jackasses thought it necessary to come up with one. I don't know why they didn't understand that working as a fuckin' secretary shouldn't be any man's ambition, and that just because assistant is a fancy word for secretary, it doesn't make them cooler. But obviously the difference between working in the lobby of the company and working just outside the executive's offices is a major difference I wasn't clued into.

There _is_ a reason why I was working at a publishing company, if you were wondering. I had packed up and left South Park with Stan because I wanted to make something out of myself. I wanted to do something other than work at Harbucks or Tom's Rhinoplasty, struggling to pay my bills at minimum wage. I wanted to be an editor- Reading had always been a big passion of mine, and I got A's in all my writing classes in high school. The University of Seattle had a great English program that I figured would earn me a decent degree. When Stan and I got there, however, I was hit with the realization that I simply had not saved up enough money to head straight for a university, even with the help of a scholarship. So I enrolled in the community college to get my basics out of the way, but I needed a way to make money once I had finished. One of my professors at community had mentioned that if you could get a job at one of the local publishing companies, and you were planning on majoring in English, that the University would put credits towards your graduation. When I mentioned this to Stan he didn't waste any time in dragging me to every publishing company in the city until one of them said they'd hire me. And thus began my wonderful career as a gay man working a job mainly occupied by women.

"Breakfast is ready!" I was jolted out of my trance by Stan's voice. I quickly threw on one of my nice, button up shirts and slacks before heading back to the kitchen.

"Looks good." I commented, rubbing my hands together as I sat down at my plateful of chocolate pancakes. Hey, I said Stan was a good cook, not a grown up one. I was pretty sure he didn't know how to make anything other than the finger foods and sweets his mom used to fix for him as a kid.

"Thanks." Stan smiled sweetly at me as he sat down across the table from me. "So, are you going to let them know you're taking two weeks off today?"

I paused with my fork mid way to my mouth and forced a smile on my face. "Yeah, of course." I inwardly cowered at the thought of making my way up to the executive office and telling my boss. That was not going to go over well.

"I wish you could come with." I sighed as I shoved my forkful of pancakes into my mouth.

Stan nodded. "Me too, it's too bad I can't take off school as easily as you can work."

I smiled in agreement, but silently wished that I was going to school with him right now, instead of being stuck at my lame-ass job. If only I had saved up more of my money, like Stan, I would have been able to. At least I didn't have to work part time at the old coffee shop down the street, but even that didn't sound so bad, according to Stan.

"It'll go quick though," I reassured. "I'll be back before you know it."

Stan smiled at this, but it seemed a bit distant, like his mind was somewhere else. I shrugged this off as I finished my breakfast and stood up to take my plate to the sink.

"I might be home a little early today," I started as I ran the plate under some hot water. "Maybe I'll stop by that Blockbuster on 160th and pick up a movie?"

"Sounds good." Stan's voice came from behind me and I placed my dish in the sink before turning around to face him. Sometimes I couldn't believe how attractive he was in comparison to me. In the dim lighting of our crappy little kitchen, his eyes managed to maintain their sparkle and his dark hair hung in a careless disarray, a few of the longer pieces falling into his face. I gasped as he suddenly reached out to grab a hold of my shirt and pulled me roughly to his chest.

"I love you." He said simply, not looking at me in the face as he rested his cheek on my head.

I laughed softly and placed my palms on his chest. "I love you, too."

I appreciated this gesture more than he could ever understand- I knew he was trying hard to make us work. Stan and I got together officially after we had moved. I think we both knew all along that that was one of the major factors in our decision to leave. We couldn't be together in that town. There was no way we could keep our sanity while people constantly whispered behind our backs. Having other people know everything about my love life was not something I could handle, but that's just how that town worked. Nothing was private. Stan had a difficult time in the beginning of our relationship- I think it was tough for him to accept that he actually had feelings towards another guy. But really, what did he expect? We had been that way since we were in preschool; he had to know that relationships like ours couldn't simply settle into a domesticated life. We would always have to be together in some way or another. Maybe the bond that we shared wasn't deep, couple love, but it sure as hell wasn't platonic. It was something so much deeper than both, blowing past the tiny spectrum that people had grow so used to and creating it's own rules and expectations.

I glanced over Stan's shoulder at the time on the microwave and reluctantly pulled away from him. "I have to leave for work."

"Okay," he grabbed my face and kissed me passionately, igniting that sensation in my soul that only he could reach. "I'll see you later." He whispered huskily as he released me, watching amusedly as I stumbled across the kitchen, my eyes glazed over and my breathing slightly heavy.

"Yeah, bye." I called dazedly over my shoulder as I slipped my shoes on and headed out the door.

Another thing I disliked about Seattle was how big it was. I was so used to being able to walk everywhere I went that having to ride around a cramped, smelly bus was completely unappealing. I guess it was just the price I had to pay, though, to get out of South Park. To live the rest of my life with Stan.

I held my breathe as I made my way up the steps covered in other people's gum and sat down in the first empty seat I found.

If the bus itself wasn't bad enough, then the people that rode it were. You wouldn't believe the kind of psychopaths that took advantage of their public transportation. I once saw a guy who tried to bring his pet chinchilla on the bus, but the driver demanded that he leave it off. Considering this, it's really saying something that five years in Seattle were still no equivalent on the weirdness scale as five days in South Park.

The ride was relatively short, and I soon found myself outside of the large stone building I was so familiar with. I sighed resignedly as I pushed open the front doors and headed to my small desk near the entrance. I figured I'd wait until the end of the day to ask my boss, Mr. Winston, but I suddenly wasn't sure if I could wait. My stomach was twisting itself into knots at the thoughts of having to sit behind my small wooden desk all day and listen to people bitch. I couldn't think of a better time to ask, though, since I wanted to make it seem like I was doing something productive and didn't have the time to stop during work hours.

I was lucky that it was a slow day like I had predicted. They ended up closing at five, almost two hours earlier than usual, and I only had to take six calls all day. This made my day considerably more boring, but more bearable at the same time.

I shut down my computer and grabbed the rain jacket that strongly resembled my old, padded winter coat off the back of my chair. I took the stairs up to Mr. Winston's office, hoping that I could control my nerves in the time it took to get there.

As I climbed my last flight of stairs I noticed that there was only one office still occupied. Luckily it was my boss's, though I had figured he'd still be there- he usually didn't leave until an hour after closing. I took a deep breathe before knocking on his door.

"Come in!"

I stepped inside and held my coat nervously in front of myself, unconsciously using it to shield myself.

"Oh, hello- Chris, right?" He greeted, smiling jovially at me.

"Actually-" I started to correct him but he cut me off.

"Take a seat, Chris, take a seat." He motioned to the incredibly uncomfortable looking, high-backed chair in front of his desk. I forced a smile before grudgingly complying.

"What is it that you need?" He questioned, looking down at some papers on his desk as he readjusted his glasses.

"Well, I was just wondering if I could have some time off?" I posed my question confidently, trying to ignore the voice in my head that said he was about to laugh at me.

He didn't laugh, though. Thank God.

"What for?" He questioned curiously, eyes gazing at me over the frame of his glasses.

"Uh," I swallowed loudly and fidgeted in my chair. "My little brother is getting married."

"Really? Well, give him my congratulations." Winston replied, placing his palms down on his desk.

I nodded politely. "I will, sir. Thank you."

"You know," he started, face showing no readable emotions. "We don't usually allow people to take vacations whenever they want, and if I am correct I think you only have four vacation days saved up."

I dropped my head to look at the ground. "I know, sir. I wouldn't even be asking if it wasn't for the fact that I haven't been home in over five years."

Winston nodded as he listened to me. "Well, normally I'd say no, but corporate has been encouraging that we find ways to help our employees relax. Everyone has been so stressed out lately, and business is slow." He paused for a moment, obviously lost in his own thoughts. "Anyways- I guess what I'm saying is that it's okay."

I smiled thankfully at him. "Thank you so much, sir."

He waved a hand dismissively through the air. "What day will you be leaving?"

"Next Monday." My response was immediate despite the fact that I hadn't chosen a specific day before that moment. Maybe I was more excited to go back than I thought?

"Okay, okay." Winston nodded and raised a hand to shoo me out of his office. He apparently had more important things to get to. "That'll be just fine, Chris."

The thought of correcting him passed through my mind as I stood up to leave, but I ultimately decided against it. After all, he did just let me take a ton of vacation time I didn't even have.

"See you tomorrow, Chris." That was a lie. I never saw any of the executive hot shots down in the lobby; I would have to make the effort of going all the way to the fifth floor to see any of them. I let it go, though, and gave him a small wave as I exited his office.

I stopped by the movie rental store on my way home and picked up a movie I thought Stan would like, even if it didn't look too appealing to me. It was strange how things worked like that once you were in a relationship with someone. Suddenly the things you want seem to take a backseat to what you believe your significant other would want. I honestly didn't even think about this as I browsed for movies, but I wasn't looking for a film I wanted to watch. The thought never even crossed my mind. It was what Stan wanted; it was always want Stan wanted for me then.

When I got back, the apartment was dirty. Not unbearably so, but with the distinct appearance that someone had been left there with nothing to do all day. I smiled to myself as I stepped over a pair of Stan's jeans in the living room. He was honestly one of the messiest people I had ever met. Seriously, who throws their jeans off in the living room?

"Hey." I turned around at the sound of Stan's voice coming from the hallway to the bedroom. Was it possible for someone to be more perfect than he was? His lips were quirked up at the edges in a familiar smile, his skin was white and pale, and he must have thrown his shirt off in some random room during the day. I'd probably find it on top of the stove later, or something like that.

"Hi." I smiled goofily at him for a moment, earning an amused look. "Uh- I got us a movie." I blurted, holding up the case as he came over to inspect it.

"Awesome!" He exclaimed, face lighting up like a five year old on Christmas day. "I've been wanting to see this."

"Thought so."

Stan shuffled over to our shitty DVD player we had purchased as a garage sale and popped the disc in. I sat down on the couch and flipped on our twenty-five inch television. It was also purchased at a garage sale. The same one, if I remember right.

"Did you talk to your boss?" Stan questioned as he came to sit next to me, throwing an arm around the back of my seat.

"Yeah," I nodded and looked up at him, his blue eyes catching the light and reflecting my image in them. "He said it was okay."

Stan's face broke out into an infectious smile. "That's great, Kyle!"

"I know." I agreed, smiling back at him. "Thanks."

"For what?" He questioned, head tilting to the side in confusion.

"For convincing me I should go. I don't think I could live with myself if I missed this."

"I know, dude. I know." He smiled again as he let his hand fall onto my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

Right in that moment, I thought that live could never get any better. Living in that decrepit apartment complex with the raven haired beauty who had always been synonymous to happiness and fulfillment in my life- that was my perfection. I believed that we were destined, and would live out the rest of our lives just that way. I thought we were connected in a way that could not be matched, could not be outdone, and would not allow us to be torn apart. I was ignorant, and childish, and naive. I was everything but truly enlightened on any situation.

Who knew that two weeks back in South Park, Colorado could change anyone's perspective on life so dramatically?

* * *

**A/N: **So? Was it too fluffy? I knew it was going to be too mushy gushy, but it just kept coming out and I couldn't stop myself! Haha^^

Let me know why you guys thought- Thanks!


	2. Return

**A/N: **Sorry it took so long to get out this second chapter, but I've been working on Finding Us, and the first chapter of this didn't seem to get a lot of recognition, so it was kind of set to the back burner. I will continue this story, though, and hope that it gets more readers. Thanks to those who have reviewed so far, you guys are awesome :)

* * *

The closer I came to South Park, the more nervous I got. Sure, I had been nervous to start with, but this was almost unbearable. I could hardly keep hold of my steering wheel my hands were shaking so hard, and I kept loosing focus of the road. I simply did not want to drive up to my old house and have to look at the disappointment on my parent's faces when they saw me. I wasn't doing this for them, I was doing it for Ike, and the last thing I needed was my parent's getting in my face about leaving my potential future as a lawyer behind me. This is why I had opted for staying at the motel just outside of town, instead of at my old house. It would make it a lot easier if I just had to drop into the house every once in a while instead of actually staying there and enduring my family for the entire two weeks I would be in town.

I planned on seeing my family, and meeting Ike's fiancé, before checking into the Super Eight. Then I planned on looking up Kenny, and finding out how pissed he was at Stan and me. But, no matter how pissed he would originally be, I knew he would get over it. That guy couldn't hold grudges for the life of him, especially when it came to our old group of friends.

My hands clenched involuntarily on my steering wheel as I saw the exit for South Park. I was less than ten minutes away now- there was absolutely no turning back.

I was just coming around the bend of the exit when I noticed a car in the ditch. I slowed down a bit as the hood of the car was slammed down, revealing a very agitated girl. I pulled over behind her and got out.

"You need some help?" I questioned, stopping next to the trunk of her beat up Honda.

"Pretty sure all the help in the world wouldn't start this piece of junk up again." She commented bitterly, thumping the hood in exasperation.

I took a few steps closer, trying to figure out if I knew this girl from somewhere. If she was going into South Park, it was pretty likely.

"Do you want a ride to town?" I offered, discreetly looking her over, from her long brown hair to her slim body. I had definitely never seen her before, though.

"Uh," she hesitated, giving me a cautious look as she walked around to the driver's side door. "I'm sure I could probably just call the towing company."

I scoffed and leaned the side of my body against the car. "Yeah, if you want to be stuck out here half the night. The closest town that could tow you is about three hours away."

The girl pursed her lips in irritation and glanced around the deserted highway. "Damn, this really is the middle of nowhere, isn't it?"

I laughed and nodded in agreement. "Pretty much. Where are you from, anyway?"

The girl gave me a strange look and took a small step backwards. Someone is a little too paranoid.

"It's just that I used to live in South Park and I know just about everyone that lives there. You learn to notice new faces in that town."

"Right, sorry," she gave me an apologetic smile and brushed some hair out of her face. "I tend to get a little up-tight when I'm in areas I don't recognize very well. I'm from New York," she explained. "Guess I'm not used to strangers being so kind."

"Well you better get used to it, because you're on your way to a town full of overly friendly red necks that I'm sure can't wait to let you know what a _beautiful haircut you have, girl_." I adopted a southern accent at the end, making her giggle. "So, will you let me give you a ride?"

"All right, just let me get my stuff." She gathered a few bags out of her back seat and gave her car one last, longing look before following me to mine.

"My name's Kyle, by the way." I informed as she slid into the passenger's seat.

"I'm Sarah." She smiled genuinely as I started the car, probably wondering how in the world I managed to talk her into doing this. It was one of my few gifts, really. To charm people into doing just about anything I wanted.

"What brings a New Yorker to such a quiet mountain town?" I questioned as I drove back along my exit.

"Well," I caught her glance down at her hand from the corner of my eye and noticed a small engagement ring on her finger. "I'm getting married."

"Wait, wait," I started, barely able to suppress my laughter at the complete irony of the situation. "Let me guess to who?"

"Okay." Sarah agreed, smoothing out her skirt self consciously.

"Ike Broflovski?"

"No way, how did you know that?"

"He's my brother! I'm coming back to town for his- your- wedding." I explained, glancing over at her amused expression.

"Well, now I feel even more ridiculous for acting so leery of you." She declared, chuckling to herself.

"Don't worry about it." I assured her as we turned down the street to my old house. "I assume you're staying with my parent's, right?"

"Yeah." She nodded as I pulled up into the driveway and turned off the ignition.

"Well, home sweet home." I murmured to myself before reaching into the back seat for Sarah's bags. "I've got this, you go ahead."

"Thanks." Sarah got out of the car and nearly skipped to the front door. I smiled to myself at the look of excitement on her face. My brother could have done a lot worse for himself, that's for sure. I wondered, for a moment, if he had even told her anything about me. He hadn't seemed too confident that I would come in his letter.

I got out of the car with a little less enthusiasm as Sarah, and a little more trepidation. The front door opened just as I was handing Sarah her bags, revealing my mother with a look of excitement covering her features. I stood back as my mom wrapped her large arms around Sarah's petite body, nearly swallowing her whole in the embrace. Her eyes opened over Sarah's shoulder and narrowed into dangerous slits as she caught sight of me. If looks could kill…

"Please, go right in Sarah, Ike is in the kitchen."

She was silent as she watched Sarah walk away, only turning to look at me when she was well out of ear-shot.

"Well," she started, crossing her arms over her wide chest and giving me a disapproving glare. "I can't believe you came."

"I told Ike I would," I declared, trying my hardest not to give into my instincts and back away from her dominating presence. "In my letter… didn't he tell you?"

"Oh yes, he told us. I just didn't think you would _actually _come."

"Yeah, well I'm here." I shrugged and looked up towards the ceiling of the porch, trying to wish away this horribly awkward moment.

"That's great," she replied in that sickeningly fake-happy voice that always struck a chord with me. "But I think you should come to see him later. As you can see," she motioned behind her where Ike and Sarah were sitting in the living room, consumed in a deep conversation. "He's pretty busy right now."

"I think he'll want to see me." I stated firmly, attempting to push past her. She placed her hands on her hips, though, and blocked the entire doorway.

"Not now, Kyle."

Our eyes locked in a stubborn starring match that I lost the moment I looked at her. I could already see that she was in full 'defensive-mother mode', and even if I was Abraham himself, she wasn't letting me through that door. My jaw clenched in recognition of defeat and I took a step back.

"Fine. But I'm coming by tomorrow, ten o'clock. Okay?"

She nodded stiffly and stepped back inside, slamming the door behind her. I didn't move for a good minute, just glared at the back of the door, wishing I could burn a hole through the worn wood. Finally, I took a deep breathe and returned to my car. My hands shook slightly as I put the key in the ignition, and my legs shook a little more as I pressed down on the gas.

"Fuck…" I breathed as I drove blindly around the familiar streets, not really caring where I was going. "Who does she think… what the fuck… mother fucking… fuck!" My voice grew in volume as my hands clenched painfully against my steering wheel. Why was she the only person who still made me feel like throwing a fit, like I was a little kid again? She was so fucking unbelievable!

I came to a stop outside of my motel, not even remembering how I had made it there. I wrenched my door open and got my bags out of the trunk before entering the small lobby, and walking briskly up to the check-in counter.

"Hello!" A cheerful, red haired girl wearing a green vest and white blouse greeted me.

I glanced at the name tag on her chest and smiled. "Hey Red! It's me, Kyle."

"Oh!" She laughed a little as her cheeks turned vaguely pink. "Hi Kyle! How have you been?"

"Good," I replied, nodding as I readjusted the strap of my suitcase. "You?"

"Oh, you know. Nothing really changes around here." She responded, her voice taking on a somber note. "You were lucky, you got out."

I looked down at the dirty counter, feeling embarrassed for some stupid reason. "I guess so."

"Well, I found your reservation." She announced, her voice sounding light and cheerful again. "You're in room 319."

"Thanks, Red." I gave her a warm smile as I took the key she held out and quickly walked away. As I walked down the hall to my room, I wondered just how many of my old classmates still lived in town. Could Stan and I have been the only ones to leave South Park? No way, that would be… pathetic.

I wrinkled my nose in slight distaste as I opened the door to my room. Really, I wasn't suspecting something high-class, but I guess I had forgotten how poor South Park was.

I threw my bags onto the small bed in the corner, trying my hardest not to think about what it would look like under a black light, and sat down on the edge of it. I checked the time on my phone and smiled when I realized it was only eight at night. It was time I found Kenny and convinced him to come out drinking with me, because I honestly couldn't remember the last time I went out to a bar and had _fun. _Not that Stan and I didn't have fun; it was just a little different since we were together now. Besides, Stan had never been a big drinker like Kenny and me. Back in High School, when we'd go out to a party he'd spend his time with Cartman. Weird, I know, but Cartman _never _drank, and I guess that was the only similarity him and Stan really shared with each other. That or they just couldn't find anyone else to hang out with on a Friday night.

* * *

I decided to check at Kenny's house first. This was assuming that he still lived with his parents, which was actually pretty unlikely since the last I knew he couldn't stand his family. But maybe they could at least tell me where he lived now.

"Hello?" I called through the screen door, hoping someone was home to hear me. There was a shuffling noise coming from the kitchen, and I smiled as a frail looking woman came to stand in the entryway.

"Who's there?" Kenny's mom called out in her high-pitched voice, looking reluctant to come too close.

"It's Kyle." I announced, but continued when she didn't seem to remember me. "I'm one of Kenny's old friends from high school."

"Oh." She replied, and stepped forward into the light. I almost gasped at how awful she looked. Her hair was matted down with grease, her face was dirty and swollen and her clothes were torn in several different places. "Kenny doesn't live here no more." She stated as she opened the screen door and stepped outside to talk.

"Uh-" I fumbled with my words for a moment as I continued to take in her appearance. What had happened to her? She hadn't always been this bad, had she? "Right, I didn't think so. Do you know where he does live? I'd really like to see him."

"No, but he works at the gas station down town. You could probably find him there."

Kenny worked at a gas station? I thought he was going to community college to get a degree in engineering?

"Thanks, Carol." I could feel my face fall into a look of pity for a moment as I reached out a hand to lie on her shoulder. "It was good to see you."

"You too, Kyle." Her dirty face beamed at my show of affection, her smile revealing several missing teeth. "You always were such a nice boy."

I had to leave before I actually started to cry. What had I left behind here?

* * *

South Park only had one gas station, so I knew exactly where Kenny's mom was talking about. And I didn't like the idea of Kenny working there- at all. Kenny was supposed to do something with his life. He was always telling us how he was going to get out of South Park, and break from the curse that held the rest of his family as the poorest in town. He wasn't supposed to be selling packets of cigarettes and lottery tickets to the hillbillies in this town.

I walked up the cracked sidewalk, weeds claiming the edges and pushing up through the ground around it. I saw Kenny before I even got inside, through the window next to the cash register. It didn't afford a very good view though, and I bent my head down, feeling anxious as I opened the door. A small chime went off, signaling the employee's that a new customer had just walked in, and I took a deep breath.

"Oho!" Came a shout to my right, and I looked up to see a guy with black hair and blue eyes sneering at me. I always hated how much Craig looked like Stan, especially since they were complete opposites of each other. Where Stan was caring and sensitive, Craig was mean and spiteful. His features took on a sharper edge to coincide with his attitude, where as Stan's were softer and less severe. It didn't change how much they resembled each other, though. I had often joked with Stan when we were younger that they were actually illegitimate brothers, and his dad had fooled around with Craig's mom. Stan didn't appreciate that so much.

"Look who's come back to town!" Craig yelled, now standing only a few feet away from me. He had a rag thrown over his left shoulder, and was wearing the customary uniform of black pants and a red shirt.

"Hey Craig." I forced a smile, trying to persuade him into not being a complete asshole for once in his life. I really wasn't in the mood.

Craig's sneer never faltered from his face, though, as he glanced around me as if looking for someone else. "Where's your little fuck buddy? I thought you two skipped town together."

"Stan didn't come with me." I answered in a monotone, keeping my face expressionless. If he knew how much his insinuations really bothered me he'd stop assuming Stan and I were and item and ascertain that it was actually true.

"Relationship troubles?" Craig questioned, his face twisting into a disgusted look as he looked back at me.

"No. My brother's getting married, as I'm sure you've heard. So I came back without him."

Craig nodded and stepped around me, his cocky stance making me want to punch him right in the fucking face. Maybe I could manage to fuck his teeth up even more. "Hey, Kenny," Craig suddenly yelled, grabbing the blonde's attention from the register. He must have been pretending he didn't see us before, because there was no way he missed that scene. "Don't you want to come give your idol a hug? I thought you've missed him so much!"

Kenny clenched his teeth almost audibly. "Fuck off, douche bag. I have _nothing_ to say to Kyle."

I flinched as he spat out my name like it was the most hateful thing to ever leave his lips. I stepped towards him, though Craig was still in front of me.

"Kenny, could I please just talk to you for a minute," I glanced towards Craig and bit my lip. "Alone?"

"Why?" Kenny's eyes landed on my face and I swear I had never seen such a heart breaking thing in my life. His face was thin and sallow, and his once bright blue eyes were now encased by dark circles and sunken deep into his face. He looked fucking horrible.

"Because I want the chance I never got before. To explain myself."

Kenny's lips pursed into a tight line and his eyes shone with a guarded expression. Craig turned to look at me over his shoulder and smirked.

"Why don't you just get the fuck out of here, Broflovski? We're all finished with the two golden boys of South Park. Have been for a long time."

Kenny heaved a great sigh as he rubbed his temple in annoyance. "That's enough, Craig."

"Whatever, Kenny. You always were such a fucking pussy for those two. Go ahead, take his side, see if I fucking care." Craig spoke softly, but with a dangerous undertone, his eyes darkening with anger. "Just remember that _he _fucking left. He doesn't give a fuck about anyone here, so I don't know why you'd think you're so special."

Kenny didn't seem to be listening to a thing Craig was saying. His tired gaze was fixed solely on me, and didn't break until a few seconds after Craig had slipped into the supply room, mumbling curse words under his breath.

"What do you want, Kyle?" I was almost surprised at the change in his tone of voice. Just minutes ago he sounded spiteful and angry, but this sounded almost… broken.

"I- I…" I closed my eyes for a second, trying to find the right words for this occasion. I had never been good at this kind of thing in the first place. One of my greatest weaknesses has always been my ability to talk myself out of a situation. I always got tongue tied and ended up spewing the first random nonsense that came to my head. "I live in Seattle."

"What?" Kenny's brows drew together in genuine confusion before a look of anger flashed across his face. "If you just came here to fucking gloat, then-"

"No, no, that's not what I meant!" I interrupted, taking a desperate step forward with my hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Kyle, I really don't have the time or interest to devote to this right now. So would you please just get to the fucking point?"

"I never wanted to leave you, Kenny." I blurted quickly, taking another step forward so I could rest my palms against the counter Kenny was standing behind. "Neither of us did. Sure, we wanted to leave this fucking town, but we didn't want to leave you. Or any of our friends. It wasn't personal and you fucking know that."

Kenny took a step back and folded his arms over his chest. "Do they have phones in Seattle, Kyle?"

I could feel my face scrunch up with confusion, but I answered anyways. "Yes."

"And I know for a fact that you've had my number memorized since you learned how to count, yet you've never bothered to call. Sorry if I don't believe your pathetic excuse, but if you really missed me you could have called at least once. In the entire five fucking years you've been gone." Kenny spat out the last words like venom and made a face like they left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I know," I shook head and leaned forward in desperation. "I know it sounds bad, but you have to look at it from our perspective, Kenny! When we left, we had no intentions of ever returning to South Park. Ever. It was a stupid thing to try and convince ourselves of, but we were just so fucking sick of it. And since we believed we'd never see anyone again we figured it would be easier to make a clean break." Kenny's neutral expression never changed as he continued to regard me with emotionless eyes. "We knew it would be too hard for us to stay away if we stayed in contact with you. I won't deny that it's a fucking lame excuse, but Kenny, you're one of my best fucking friends! You always have been- why would I purposely try to hurt you?"

Kenny took a step forward and placed his hands on the counter also, leaning in so he was only inches away from my face. I threw all of the honesty I could muster in my expression, realizing that he was scrutinizing me. Finally, he took a deep breath and leaned away, letting his arms fall to his side in an open gesture.

"Fucking shit cocksucker!" He swore loudly, and I started to back away until I caught his lips twitching at the corners. I smiled at him and he closed his eyes and smiled back, shaking his head. "God dammit, Kyle! You're so fucking lucky I'm shit at holding grudges."

All I could do was smile like an idiot.

* * *

Kenny took off early from work and decided to take it upon himself to reacquaint me with my hometown. He insisted that I let him drive me all around, even though not a god damned thing had changed, and listen to him instruct me like a freaking tour guide. Honestly though, despite the fact that I bitched about it the entire time, I had missed Kenny too much to give a shit about what we did. Just being with him again was enough for me.

"And there's Bebe's new house, she's living there with Red and Millie. Sometimes I go over there and we all fu-"

"I think I get the point, Kenny!" I interrupted loudly, throwing up my hands in a motion for him to stop.

Kenny chuckled to himself and took a sharp left. "That's right; I forgot that you don't really swing that way."

"Uh, what are you talking about?" Stan and I had never told anyone from South Park about us, or the fact that we were gay. How could he know that?

"Well, I mean I know that you still like women. Sometimes. But you're mostly attracted to dick." The way he was speaking was so off-hand I wondered if maybe I had told him once. But I knew I was always so careful about masking my sexual preferences- there was no way.

"Where the fuck did you get that from?" I sputtered out after working my mouth silently for a few seconds.

"Jesus, Kyle. I know you and Stan were, like, super gay friends or whatever in high school, but I knew you pretty damn well, too."

"There's no way you could have known that."

"Bullshit. You and Stan are fucking open books to me. We were best friends, and I like to think that I can tell if my best friends are gay or not." There was a tinge of bitterness in his voice that was hard to miss.

"We still are." I replied quietly.

He turned his head to look over at me, a street light illuminating his expression as we drove under it. "What?"

"You said we _were_ best friends. We still are."

Kenny returned his eyes back to the road and shook his head, but I didn't miss the small curve his lips made. "Maybe. You've got a lot of ass kissing to do though, Broflovski."

"I'm sure you'll have completely forgiven me by the end of tonight." I challenged, smirking at the side of his face.

"_I _might have been easy to convince," Kenny started, a sly look appearing on his face. "But I know a certain someone who won't be quite as simple to persuade."

I could feel my face fall. "Is Cartman really that pissed at us?"

"Well, I don't know if it was ever humanly possible for him to dislike _you _any more, but he's considerably more irritated with Stan."

I sighed as Kenny continued to drive in silence. If Cartman was seriously pissed then it would take nothing short of a miracle to convince him to forgive us. Not that it was on my list of priorities at the moment- Cartman was a total douche bag- but we had also been sort-of friends since preschool. Stan would be more upset than me, I think, but he can't stand people not liking him in the first place. It drives him crazy. He's one of those people who has to please everyone, no matter what cost to him.

Kenny took another turn down our small main street.

"Where are we going?" I questioned, suddenly brought out of my own thoughts.

"You're going to have to deal with Cartman sometime. Might as well be willingly and with me than accidentally when you're by yourself."

I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes. This was not something I was looking forward to, or even anticipated. Coming back to South Park was not a fucking vacation for me in the first place, and having to deal with a pissed off Eric Cartman was going to make it a whole hell of a lot worse.

* * *

**A/N: **So, I really want to pair Kenny with someone in this story, but I can't really think of who. It would be great of some of you guys would give me some suggestions as to what you think would work best.

Thanks! :)


	3. Second Chances

**A/N: **Chapter three already? Well, since you guys gave me so many awesome reviews last chapter I couldn't keep you waiting for long, could I?^^

I liked writing this chapter, so I hope you all like reading it!

ENJOY :)

* * *

"I don't remember this place." I remarked as Kenny pulled into the parking lot of a bar.

"That's because it was built a year after you hauled ass."

"Right, sorry." I apologized, catching the bitter undertone to Kenny's words. Maybe it was going to take a little more work to get our friendship fully repaired than I had thought.

We got out of Kenny's small Ford Focus and made our way to the entrance. I could already hear loud music pulsating from the building, and an unexpected giddiness suddenly filled me.

"So, Cartman comes here a lot, huh?" I questioned curiously as we reached the front door.

A dark look overcame Kenny's face as he stepped in ahead of me. "Yeah."

I wanted to ask Kenny more, but the noise washed over us as we walked in, making conversation nearly impossible. Kenny led me over to the bar that wrapped around the entire right side of the building, various bottles of alcohol glittering from shelves nailed above it.

Kenny ordered us some drink I'd never heard of, making me berate myself for not getting out more, and took a seat on one of the stools.

"Well?" I yelled over the loud music as I took the empty stool next to him.

"Well, what?"

"I thought we came to see Cartman. I don't see Cartman."

"Chill out, Kyle. He's here, trust me." Kenny shot me a disconcerting smile as the bartender sat our drinks in front of us. "Until we find him, I advise that you drink up!"

I didn't like all of the new found secrecy Kenny was suddenly coming with. The Kenny I knew wore his heart on his sleeve and didn't hide things from anybody. I followed his lead though, and downed the contents my shot glass. Kenny laughed rapturously as I proceeded to immediately gag and sputter like a fucking pussy.

"Stan doesn't take you out much, huh?"

"You know Stan hates drinking." I replied, eyes watering as I tried not to think about the horrible burning in my throat.

Kenny looked like he was about to say something more when he was distracted by someone shouting over the pounding music.

"What the fuck?" I frowned as I scanned through the crowd of people for the source.

"That didn't take long." Kenny mumbled to himself.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME, ASSHOLE!" The shouts seemed to be coming closer, and I noticed a gap was being formed in the crowd, presumably to make room for whoever was yelling.

"Dude, would you calm the fuck down?" Another, somewhat quieter voice was barely heard over the music. I leaned forward and saw Token stumbling backwards, his hands thrown up in surrender.

"CALM DOWN? IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW, I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KICK IT SO HARD, YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO _SIT DOWN _FOR WEEKS!"

"Who the fuck is that?" I questioned Kenny, giving him an incredulous look. He didn't answer though, just kept his head turned towards the fight.

Token continued to move backwards, and I could see his face now. I swear I had never seen a grown man look so petrified in his life.

"I'm leaving, okay?" He called out, eyes wide as his tormentor stepped through the crowd.

"Cartman?" I gasped out, just loud enough for Kenny to hear. He gave me a look that clearly said, 'you really should have seen that one coming.'

I still couldn't believe it though, even with him standing only twenty feet away from me. Maybe it was because his face was contorted in a kind of rage that even I had never seen on him before. Or maybe it was the fact that he looked so freaking thin, or that his eyes were glazed over from alcohol. Eric Cartman didn't drink, he did _not_ get in actual fights, and he was a fatass. This was not the Cartman I knew.

"Why don't you _do _something?" I demanded of Kenny, standing up suddenly but not moving anywhere.

"Why don't you?" Kenny responded, raising an eyebrow at my frozen stance.

"Well someone should do something!" I shouted, looking around the bar desperately, only to find that everyone seemed to be trying their best to ignore the situation. Nobody looked alarmed in the slightest.

"Yeah right," Kenny scoffed as Cartman continued advancing on Token. "Trust me Kyle, nobody's going to get in his way."

My eyes darted between Token and Cartman several times before I finally moved. Cartman had backed the terrified man against the wall of the bar, and was looming threateningly over him, shouting nonsensical things in his face. I managed to wedge myself between the two and get a good shove against Cartman's chest, making him stumble back in surprise.

"Tha fuck?" He slurred, his eyes narrowing as he regained his balance.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Cartman?" I demanded angrily. It took Cartman a while for his bleary eyes to focus on me and it took him even longer to register that it was actually me standing in front of him.

"Kyle?" His voice came out in a shocked whisper before he collected himself. "Back the fuck off, Jew! What the fuck are you even doing here?"

"Trying to stop you from acting like a retarded douche bag!"

"This is none of your fucking business, faggot!" Cartman declared, taking two long strides towards me so that he was right in my face. I almost gagged; he reeked so badly of alcohol.

"It is my business when you're trying to beat the shit out of someone in a fucking bar!"

"Get the fuck out of here, Kyle." Cartman's voice dropped from a shout to a low, dangerous whisper, his breath leaking in hot spurts over my face from his angry panting.

"Make me, lard ass." Okay, so I was acting a little bit like an immature idiot with all the name-calling, but I really just wanted to get him out of there. He was drunk and about ready to beat the shit out of Token, who looked genuinely scared- it didn't matter what I said, as long as it pissed him off enough to convince him to leave Token alone.

"Okay." A nasty smirk played across his lips as he grabbed me roughly by my shoulders and hoisted me into the air. My natural instinct was to fight back, but I forced myself to go limp. I had dealt with Cartman for eighteen years; there wasn't much he could do that truly frightened me.

I felt a rush of cold air and I knew he had brought me outside. He shoved me forcefully against the wall of the building and let go of my shoulders, letting my feet fall to the ground.

"What the fuck, Kyle?" He spat, his face flushed from either anger or drunkenness. I ducked not a second too soon as his fist connected with the wall, right where my shoulder had been. At least I knew he was drunk enough that his aim was horrible.

"What is your deal, Cartman?"

"What's _my _deal? You're my fucking deal as of right now, Jew!" I backed up slightly at the crazed look in his eyes, my body pressing against the wall. In all honesty, I had never seen Cartman drunk before. It was kind of scary.

"What happened to you?" I nearly whispered, searching his face for some sort of answer. All that was there were scars left behind though, no real responses. His eyes, which had been circled by dark shadows, were glassy and bloodshot. His hair that looked like it hadn't been cut for _years_, was hanging shaggy and unwashed across his face. His skin, behind its splotchy blush, was remarkably pale and held a very unhealthy tinge. All of this pointed to some great trauma, but refused to answer what.

I hadn't realized how quiet it had gotten until someone opened the door, letting the music flood out the silence.

"All right, that's enough." Came Kenny's voice and his hands were around Cartman's shoulders, pulling him off of me.

"God dammit, Kenny." Cartman growled, wrenching his hands off of him. "Why did you bring him here?"

"He wanted to see you."

Cartman stilled for a moment, his eyes casting over me as I continued to stay backed against the wall.

"Bullshit."

"No, really, Cartman," I spoke up, taking a step towards him. "Kenny told me that you were angry with Stan and me for leaving. I wanted to come and apologize."

"You can save your breath."

"Come on, dude! Kenny forgave me." I pointed out, motioning towards the blond.

"I'm not Kenny." Cartman ground out, his eyes focused on some point over my head.

"What do I have to do to show you I'm sorry?"

"You can't. I don't give a fuck about what Kenny does, but just stay the fuck away from me, got it?"

"No!" I nearly shouted, my face heating up in indignation. "I'm not going to let you storm around like you're the only victim, here. We were all victims in this town, you're just too self-centered to look past your own jealousy and be happy that someone else was able to get out!"

Kenny tried to stop him, but Cartman moved too fast. Before I could even registered what had happened, my head was being slammed against the hard stone wall, and Cartman was driving his fist into my stomach. All I could hear, besides the ringing in my ears, was the constant string of curse words coming out of Kenny's mouth as he attempted to pull Cartman off of me. I had severely underestimated how strong Cartman was, despite his obviously horrible health. I shut my eyes tight and tried to squirm away, but that only seemed to piss him off even more.

When he had exhausted all of his rage, he let my body drop to the ground and aimed one last kick at my side. I groaned and felt my body curl up into the fetal position.

I could hear him and Kenny arguing a few feet away, but I wasn't really paying attention to what they were saying. All I could focus on was the pounding in my head. Eventually, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I opened my eyes to see Kenny crouched beside me.

"Come on, let's go."

I scrunched my eyes shut in pain as I pushed against the ground, managing to get myself into a sitting position. Kenny reached his hand out to me and I took it gratefully, letting him pull me to my feet.

I looked around to make sure Cartman was gone. "What the fuck is his deal, man?"

Kenny pulled my arm around his shoulders to help support me and cast a frown at the ground. "You don't understand what it's been like, Kyle."

"What do you mean?" I nearly whined, feeling like child for how much Kenny was keeping from me.

Kenny sighed heavily as I struggled to hop along next to him. "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't jump to conclusions so quickly. Especially about Cartman."

"I'm not jumping to conclusions! Cartman has always been a self-centered asshole."

"Kyle." Kenny stopped at his car and let me lean against it. "I'm serious. A lot of things have changed here, whether you're willing to see it or not."

"Nothing has changed." I stated firmly, growing angrier by the second. "This is the same fucking intolerant town filled with the same fucking intolerant people that I left five years ago."

Kenny shook his head and began making his way to the driver's side door. "I shouldn't have brought you here."

"Yeah, obviously not tonight if all Cartman wanted to do was beat the shit out of someone."

"I don't mean just tonight. I mean I should have _never_ brought you here. I probably shouldn't have even talked to you when you came to see me, but _this _I know was a mistake."

"Why are you treating me like I'm a child? Like I don't deserve to know what's been going on?" I blurted out, glaring at Kenny across the top of his car.

"Because not everything is mine to tell."

"Since when have you given a fuck about what's right and wrong?"

"Since I learned that it can destroy people's lives."

I rolled my eyes. "That's a little fucking dramatic."

Kenny shot me a small, humorless smile. "And that's why I can't tell you everything."

"Whatever," I huffed, wrenching the car door open. "Just take me to the motel."

* * *

Kenny was quiet the entire drive, making sure to keep his eyes locked on the road. I was already regretting getting so upset with him; I just wasn't used to him acting that way. Maybe everyone had changed a lot more than I had originally thought.

"Thanks for the ride, Kenny." I spoke quietly as he idled in the parking lot of the motel.

"No problem, dude." He responded, his voice sounding forced despite the light tone.

"I guess I'll see you soon?" I asked tentatively, knowing he would understand that I was hoping to hang out with him more.

"Yeah, sure. Come by my work around nine, that's when my shift ends." I nodded and made a move to get out of the car. "And Kyle," I turned to give him a questioning glance. "Don't give up on Cartman."

"What do you mean?" My brows drew together in confusion as Kenny ran a hand through his dirty blond hair.

"You've got two weeks before you go back; just give him at least that long, okay?"

"Kenny, I-"

"Listen, Kyle. If you don't promise me you won't give up on him until then, you can forget about us." He made a motion between us suggesting that he was referring to our friendship.

"I don't know what you expect me to do. I've never seen him so angry with me in my life."

"I'll work on him a little bit, too. Just plan on seeing him again tomorrow, okay?"

I shook my head but decided to agree, against my better judgment. "Okay. But if he sucker punches me in the stomach one more time-"

"Don't worry; I'll make sure he's sober tomorrow." Kenny promised, shooting me a pleased grin.

"Speaking of," I started, deciding to ask the one question that had been bothering me all night. "Why was Cartman drinking? He never did in high school."

Kenny adopted that secretive smile I had been inadvertently growing accustomed to. "That's his story, not mine, Kyle."

"Right, right, whatever." I sighed in annoyance, but continued when another question struck me. "Can you at least tell me why no one was willing to help Token?"

Kenny chuckled a little and nodded. "Cartman gets to do whatever the fuck he wants in that bar."

"But why?"

"His uncle owns the national franchise or some shit, and he put Cartman in charge of the one here. It's Cartman's bar, so he can do whatever the fuck he wants."

"That's fucking messed up. The last thing that lunatic needs is any semblance of power."

Kenny put on a forced smile. "Yeah. Well, I should get going. I've got an early shift tomorrow."

"Okay. See you later, Kenny."

I didn't pause to watch him go as his car sputtered out of the parking lot.

* * *

The alarm on my cell phone jerked me awake at nine the next morning. It took an insane amount of strength just to roll over; my stomach hurt so bad from Cartman's assault the previous night. I could also feel a huge lump on the back of my head from where it had connected with the stone wall.

If it hadn't been for the fact that I was going to see my brother for the first time in five years, I wouldn't have given a shit about my appearance. With that thought in mind, I tried my hardest to cover up any evidence of my encounter with Cartman. It wouldn't be hard to hide my stomach; I just had to be careful if anyone decided to hug me. The series of small cuts and scratched along my arms, face, and hands were a different case. I figured that if I kept my winter jacket on, I might be able to keep the questions at bay.

I arrived at my parent's house fifteen minutes before ten. There didn't seem to be a lot of movement going on inside- most of the curtains were drawn and the lights were off- but I rang the doorbell anyway.

I guess I had been expecting my mom to open the door, because I froze when I saw my dad standing in front of me.

"Kyle?" He breathed out, voice barely above a surprised whisper.

"Uh, hey dad."

"I didn't know you were coming."

I could feel my face scrunch into a look of anger. "I was here yesterday but mom wouldn't let me in. Didn't she tell you?"

"No, no she didn't." He replied, sounding slightly skeptical.

"Well," I started, crossing my arms in agitation. "I came to see Ike."

"Yes, of course." He nodded and stepped aside, letting me walk in. "He should be awake; he's up in his room."

I hesitated before heading up to Ike's room, an awkward, guilty feeling washing over me. My dad and I hadn't spoken for nearly five years. Something was telling me that I should say more to him and by the look on his face he felt the same way. My mouth opened a few times, but words seemed to fail me so I ducked my head, turned, and walked away.

I refrained from looking into my old room as I walked past, though I could tell from my peripheral vision that the door was open. My mom had probably turned it into a craft room or something by now, so what was the point?

I stopped in front of Ike's door and knocked on it, the sound reverberating louder than I had anticipated.

"Come in." Was his muffled reply, and I slowly pushed the door open.

Ike was sitting on the chair in front of his computer, his face washed out from the bright glow of it. When his eyes flickered up to glance at me, I smiled. He hadn't changed that much, though he seemed a little taller. His hair was still black and cropped short along his forehead, his eyes were still wide and blue, and his smile held the same cheerful curve that I remembered.

"Kyle?" He gasped out, jumping up from his chair and sending it skidding a few feet across the floor.

"Hey." I couldn't stop the wide grin that had situated itselft on my face as Ike threw himself on me, nearly knocking us both over. The sudden, sharp pain in my stomach nearly knocked the breath out of me, but I struggled past it. "How have you been?"

He made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat as he let go of me.

"I've missed you!" He declared, his eyes shining with moisture.

"Me too."

"I can't believe you came!"

This stung a lot. Did no one have any faith in me anymore? "You don't give me enough credit."

"Well, I mean I haven't seen you for so long..." His face twisted into a frown. "I haven't even talked to you for five years. Why would I just assume you'd come?"

"I'm sorry, Ike." I apologized, a heavy feeling settling into my gut that I could only assume was guilt. "For leaving. And for not keeping in contact."

"Don't worry about it, Kyle."

"Really?" I asked, sounding skeptical.

"Yeah. If I was upset with you I wouldn't have bothered to invite you to my wedding."

"Thanks, Ike."

"No problem. Now come on, you have to meet Sarah!" Ike exclaimed, grabbing my arm as he led me into the hall.

"Uh, I've actually met her already." I informed, causing him to stop. "Didn't she tell you?"

"No, she didn't." Ike waved a dismissive hand through the air. "But we've been pretty busy here, she probably thought I already knew, and," his voice suddenly dropped to a whisper as he leaned towards me conspiratorially. "She tends to be a little flakey."

"You had better not be talking about me, Ike." A stern, but amused, voice came from behind us. Sarah was standing at the end of the hall, still in her pajamas, with a hand on her hip.

"Sorry, Hun." Ike rubbed the back of his neck out of nervous habit. "Forgot your room was down here."

"Well," Sarah started as she walked towards them. "You know I'd rather be rooming with you, but your mother insists."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Ike shot her an embarrassed smile and she giggled.

"Hey, Kyle." She greeted after pecking Ike on the cheek. "Where did you go yesterday?"

"I got checked into the motel and looked up some old friends." I replied, conveniently leaving out the part where I got the shit kicked out of me. by an angry drunk.

"Uh, sorry, but I'm still not entirely clear on how you two know each other." Ike spoke up, looking between us in confusion.

"Oh, right!" Sarah exclaimed, her face lighting up. "Well my car broke down on the exit ramp to town-"

"You're car broke down?" Ike interrupted.

"Um, yes." Sarah replied, giving Ike a sheepish look.

"How could you forget to tell me that? We'll have to call someone to have it towed today."

"Yes, thank you, sweetie." Sarah smiled appreciatively at her fiancé and, as she restarted her story, Ike mouthed 'flake' behind her back. I held back a laugh with some difficulty.

"Anyway, Kyle came about ten minutes later and asked if I needed a ride. I was a little iffy at first, but he eventually talked me into it. It wasn't until we were on our way here that I found out you're brothers." Sarah declared, smiling brightly at both of us.

"That's Kyle, always the boy scout." Ike teased and I punched him in the shoulder.

"Well, I'm going to go get dressed." Sarah announced, flashing us both a smile before turning and heading back to the guest room.

"She's great, really."

"Thanks." Ike replied, watching her go with a crooked smile on his face.

"So, what are you guys doing today?" I questioned as we started making our way down stairs.

"Were heading up to Denver to do our registering."

He paused for a moment at the bottom if the steps before asking hesitantly. "Would you like to come with?"

"Of course I would." I replied, throwing my arm over his shoulders in a brotherly gesture. "I've got nothing better to do."

"Great."

We continued into the kitchen, where mom was working on breakfast. She turned with a smile on her face that quickly dissolved into a glower as she saw me.

"Good morning." She greeted Ike before turning back to the stove top.

"Morning, ma." Ike cast me an apologetic look before sitting at the table.

Breakfast was painfully awkward. My mom tried her hardest to ignore me the entire time, despite Ike's best attempts at including me in every conversation. Needless to say, I was glad when it was over.

After we had eaten, and Ike had called the closest towing company he could find for Sarah, the three of us settled into Ike's car and took off for Denver.

The first ten minutes were painfully quiet. I don't know if it was just the effort required to begin a conversation, but no one was willing to put forth. That, or everyone was just as stumped as me on how to start.

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Sarah finally broke the silence.

"So, where do you live now, Kyle?" She questioned, her legs drawn up underneath her in the passenger's seat.

"In Seattle."

"And you're all by yourself?" She continued, sounding concerned.

"No, actually. I live in an apartment with my, uh, friend." I blushed slightly at the way I tripped over what to call Stan. We hadn't yet been in a situation where we had to address each other as boyfriends.

"Ooh, and she's just a friend, huh?" Sarah teased, obviously not missing my discomfort at the mention of it.

To make matters worse, all I could do was turn redder.

"Hun, Stan isn't really a girl." Ike interrupted, giving Sarah a significant look.

She starred at him with a confused expression before her face lit up with understanding. "Oh! Well, there's no shame in that, Kyle! Why didn't you just say so?"

I looked up at the rear view mirror and caught Ike's eye. He seemed a little upset, and I didn't blame him. We had always been close, so it was understandable for him to be hurt that I never told him about Stan and me. Even though he had probably figured it out a long time ago.

"It's not a big deal, really. It's not like were planning on getting hitched or anything." I replied, trying to lighten the mood.

Ike scoffed. "Yeah, right." He turned to address Sarah. "They've been in love with each other since they were old enough to walk. It was painful watching them ignore it for eighteen years."

Sarah turned in her seat to look back at me. "Aw, Kyle! That is so sweet. Have you guys really known each other that long?"

"Yeah, we've been best friends all our lives."

"Isn't that romantic, Ike?" Sarah cooed, her eyes turning starry.

"Yes," Ike replied, smiling at me in the mirror. "Sickeningly so."

"What about you guys?" I spoke up, trying to change the subject. "How did you meet?"

"Well, you know Tweek Tweak, right?" Sarah started, still turned in her seat so she could talk to me easier.

"Yeah, I went to school with him."

"I'm his cousin." Sarah declared, smiling at the shocked look on my face.

"Really? Then how come I've never seen you in town before?"

"My family doesn't come around much since we live in New York. About two years ago, though my uncle, Tweek's grandpa, died, so we came to town for the funeral."

"And you guys met at his funeral?"

"No, we met at Harbucks." Ike interrupted, sounding amused. "Why would I go to Tweek's grandpa's funeral?"

"Well, I just assumed…"

"Nah, we were both walking in at the same time and I started talking to her, since I'd never seen her in town before. It was kind of hard to keep our relationship, especially since we were only seventeen at the time, but I flew out to New York to see her over Christmas last year. That's when I asked her to marry me."

"Yup." Sarah nodded in affirmation. "And we've both been accepted to the University of Denver, so we'll being going to school together this year."

"That's great, guys. So where are your parents staying until the wedding, Sarah?"

"Oh, uh," Sarah stuttered, her bright face falling into a frown. "My parents aren't coming to the wedding."

"They don't really approve of our relationship." Ike elaborated, his jaw clenched in obvious animosity.

Sarah sighed and placed a hand on Ike's shoulder. "They think I'm too young to get married and start planning out the rest of my life."

"I know what that's like." I murmured, causing Sarah to look back at me. "I mean, having your parents feel… disappointed in you."

Sarah didn't question me any further about this, making me believe that she'd already heard things from my mother or Ike.

"Could you do me a favor, Sarah?" I started, feeling like we had both come to a sort of term of understanding.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Just, don't say anything about Stan to my parents, okay?"

A sympathetic smile lit up her features. "Sure thing, Kyle."

* * *

**A/N: **Well, I hope it was okay :)

So, I took all of your advice and I have to say that I don't think there will be any Crenny for this story, haha^^

I am, however, strongly considering Butters/Kenny, so let me know what you think about that:)


	4. Sunset

**A/N: **OH MY GOSH! This was fun to write :) I'm really starting to fall in love with this story! I hope you all are enjoying it as much as me. Thanks so so so so much to everyone that has reviewed!

For everyone that is also reading Finding Us, I'm sorry I haven't updated for a while :( I promise the next chapter will be up ASAP, I've just hit a bit of writer's block!

Anyway, I hope you all like the chapter!

* * *

We got back from Denver around seven, and I declined Sarah and Ike's invitation to stay for dinner. One family meal was good enough for the day. I did promise Ike I would go tuxedo shopping with him the next day, though.

Kenny didn't get off work for another two hours, so I drove to the gas station and parked around back, deciding to call Stan.

"Hey, Kyle!" He picked up after only one ring, making my heart kinda sink. I didn't want to think about how depressing our crappy little apartment must be when you're all alone.

"Hey, man. How're you doing?"

"I'm fine." He replied, almost too quickly. "I've been really busy, so I haven't been around the apartment much."

I figured he was spending most of his time at the college library or scheduling more hours at the coffee shop.

"Well, that's good." I paused, not sure what to say. I really wanted to avoid sounding too mushy and… gay. "You know, you can call me whenever you want. I'm not doing anything too important here."

"Oh yeah, yeah I know." Stan sputtered out quickly, sounding almost embarrassed. "So, what have you done so far?"

"Well, today I went up to Denver with Ike and his fiancée, Sarah."

"Really? What's she like?"

"She's great, actually. Doesn't really surprise me though, Ike's a smart kid."

"Yeah, I can't imagine he's done too badly for himself."

I chuckled and pulled my feet up onto my seat, hugging my knees. "She's actually related to Tweak."

"Seriously? Have we met her before?" Stan questioned, sounding surprised. I could almost see the expression on his face as he tried to remember any relatives of Tweak's he'd met.

"No, she lives in New York. She and Ike met each other when they came down a couple years ago for Tweak's grandpa's funeral."

"They met at a funeral?"

I felt my lips twitch up in a smile. "No. But that's what you would assume, isn't it?"

Stan laughed, the sound making my smile grow even more. "Yeah. So, have you seen anyone else yet?"

"Actually, I went out with Kenny last night."

"That's good. So he wasn't upset at all?"

"Well, he was at first but you know Kenny. Cartman on the other hand…"

"You saw Cartman, too?" Stan questioned, sounding apprehensive.

"Yeah. He's a total disaster, man." I replied, unconsciously reaching up to rub the bump on the back of my head. "Apparently some messed up shit's been happening, but Kenny won't even begin to tell me."

"That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea. He was fucking _drunk _when I saw him."

Stan scoffed, but his voice had a pained ring to it. "Cartman doesn't drink."

"That's what I said." I sighed, picking morosely at the sleeve of my coat.

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?" I questioned, my brows coming together in confusion.

"You have to do something, Kyle. I know you guys fought a lot in high school, but he's still your friend."

"What the fuck do you expect me to do? He fucking hates my guts."

"Kyle, he doesn't hate you." Stan spoke quietly, but with an air of honesty. "You guys are friends, and I know that Cartman likes to put on a tough act and pretend like things don't bother him, but he's probably missed you."

"Missed me?" I stammered, nearly chocking on the concept. "Beating the shit out of me was a good way to get _that _point across. Nothing really says _I missed you _like a good punch in the gut."

"What are you talking about? Did you guys fight?"

"_I _didn't fight." I corrected, nearly growling into my phone in my anger.

"What the fuck did he do to you? Are you being serious?" Stan responded, his voice sounding tense and enraged.

I calmed at the sound, remembering that I hadn't exactly planned on telling Stan about Cartman beating me up. "No, it wasn't that bad Stan, really. He pushed me into a wall."

"You said he punched you!" Stan exclaimed, sounding more upset by the second.

"I was exaggerating to try and get my point across." I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, hoping he would buy my lie.

"God dammit, Kyle. Don't let that jackass touch you again, or I'll-"

"All right, calm down." I interrupted. "I can take care of myself. Really, don't worry about it."

"I _know _you can take care of yourself." I could hear him taking a deep breath, chuckling slightly as he released it. "Especially against Cartman."

"Yeah, well, good." I replied, nodding to myself.

We were silent for a moment, and my eyes wandered to the clock above my radio. It's was already eight thirty.

"Hey, I've got to go, okay?" My voice was soft and I heard him sigh in disappointment.

"All right. Call me again tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I will."

"Okay… bye."

"Bye." I flipped my phone shut and let my forehead fall against my knees. As much as I hated acting too girly, I really wished one of us would have said 'I love you' before we hung up. Pushing this thought aside, I stepped out of my car and made my way into the gas station.

Kenny was ringing up some guy's stuff, but gave me a wave as I walked in. As soon as he was finished he threw his uniform's hat on the counter and jumped over it.

"Let's get the fuck out of here!" He exclaimed, giving me a toothy smile.

* * *

"Are we going where I think we're going?" I exhaled, fogging up the window of Kenny's car.

"Probably."

"I can't imagine the point in it… Starks Pond has to be nothing more than a landfill now."

The only response I got was a quiet chuckle.

The sun was just beginning to set as we pulled into the small parking lot adjacent to the pond. I was surprised, I will admit, at how nice the usually foggy, dirty body of water was. The surface of it shined with a clarity that I was unfamiliar with and the surrounding vegetation was not as brown and dead as I remembered it.

"Whoa," I breathed out, letting my jaw fall open at the sight of it. "What happened here?"

"Well, not long after you left your mom found Ike hanging around here and, being the over bearing person that she is, she started a petition to clean it up. As you can see, it actually did the place a lot of good."

"You're damn right it did." I agreed as Kenny pulled into a parking spot. "It looks even better then when we were kids."

I followed Kenny across the empty lot and to the shore of the pond, where a figure could be seen sitting against a tree. It turned as we got closer, brown hair falling over his green eyes.

"What the hell, Kenny?" Cartman spoke, moving to stand up.

"Calm down, Cartman." Kenny insisted, rolling his eyes. "Kyle's not going to bother you, I promise."

I shifted nervously and focused my gaze behind Cartman, at the reflection of the sunset in the pond. After last night, my hopes of having a decent conversation with Cartman were not that high. But, on the other hand, he was pretty drunk then and he seemed a lot more mellow at the moment.

"Better not bother me, stupid Jew."

I bit my tongue to keep from throwing back an insult.

"Come on, let's sit." Kenny suggested, walking a few steps to the edge of the pond and sitting on the grass.

Cartman's dull stare lingered on me briefly before he moved to sit on Kenny's left side. I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on, before taking Kenny's right.

"What exactly are we supposed to be doing?" Cartman questioned after a good minute of us starring across the surface of the pond.

Kenny shrugged. "I brought a joint. I thought we could just… take things as they come."

"You brought weed?" My question came out a little less incredulously than I had intended. I knew I wasn't as against the idea as I should have been, but I had a rational image to protect.

"Yeah, so what? We did it together in high school."

"I know, but this is a public place," I continued, my argument sounding weak. "What if someone calls the police?"

Kenny scoffed. "Officer Barbrady? I'm pretty sure he doesn't even bother paying attention to calls anymore."

"Yeah, well…" I paused, gripping a clump of grass and pulling it up by the root. "Okay, fine."

"There you go, Kyle." Kenny looped one hand around my shoulders and reached into his jacket pocket with the other.

"Whatever." I grumbled, watching as Kenny pulled out a lighter and tightly rolled joint. "I can't believe I'm actually going to do this."

"Kyle, if you don't stop your fucking whining, I'll-" Cartman started.

"You'll what? Bruise my ribs? Oh yeah, you already did that." I glared at him through the haze of smoke Kenny exhaled.

I felt a hand on my chest as Kenny pushed me back and shoved the smoking joint in my face. My hand reached up to take it and I grimaced as I held it to my lips. Kenny turned away from me to talk to Cartman and I closed my eyes, inhaling as much as I could before sputtering out smoke in a coughing fit.

"Whoa, easy there!" Kenny laughed as he patted me on the back. I held out the joint to him and he passed it to Cartman.

I finally caught my breath and wiped my watering eyes on the arm of my coat. It had been a good five years since I had smoked, so it wasn't surprising that I was hacking like an amateur.

The three of us continued on in a similar manner and I felt myself fall into a pattern, making me feel almost robotic. Inhale, pass, exhale. After a while I wasn't even coughing. It took ten minutes for me to realize that I was already high. Everything was incredibly slow and hazy and it took far too long for my eyes to focus on something right in front of my face.

Oh, was that Kenny's hand?

"What?" I slurred, noting that my tongue felt like a large piece of cotton.

"I wanna go down the slide!" Kenny responded, his eyes drooping in that classic stoner look.

"Dude, then go down the slide. It's right over there." I motioned in the direction of the small park beside the pond.

Kenny pouted. "Will you come with me?"

"I'm… busy, Kenny. Not right now."

"Busy doing what?" Kenny exclaimed, looking at me skeptically.

"I'm-" I started, but the sound of music cut me off. "What the fuck is that?"

"Calm." Kenny ordered, rolling his eyes. "It's just my phone." He reached into his pocket and flipped his phone open, gasping at the name on the caller I.D. "I'll be right back!"

"What's that all about?" I questioned no one in particular, and nearly jumped three feet in the air when someone answered me.

"It's probably Butters."

"I forgot you were here." I stated, blinking at the side of Cartman's face. He was starring straight ahead and didn't look like he'd moved since we got there.

"Of course you did." Cartman muttered so quietly I almost didn't hear him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What?"

"What you just said."

"What'd I just say?"

"You said… you said… shit, I don't remember."

Cartman chuckled and lay back in the grass. "You're not the most functional high person, are you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What?"

"What you just said."

"What'd I just say?"

"Holy shit, I just got the most intense déjà vu! What the fuck?" I lay down so my body was parallel to the shore of the pond.

"I hate you so much." Cartman declared, leaning on his elbows so he could look down at me.

"Why?" I scrambled to crawl up next to Cartman and leaned over into his face. "I told you I was sorry."

"Why does everyone think that sorry can just fix everything?" Cartman demanded, pushing a long strand of hair out of his face. "It's just a fucking word."

"Because sometimes words are all that someone has." I replied, my mouth seeming to work without my permission. I wasn't even sure if that made sense.

Cartman tilted his head to the side and then scowled. "Will you back off; you're like three inches from my face."

"Oh," I glanced down to realize that I was much closer than I had thought. "Sorry. I mean- oops- my bad."

Cartman sighed and fixed me with an exasperated look.

"Hey guys!" Kenny came bounding between us, a huge grin on his face. "You mind if Butters comes? I told him it was okay."

"Butters?" I looked up at Kenny with a confused look on my face.

"Yeah, Butters. You know, the nervous little blond whose parent's used to ground him all the time? Gosh Kyle, your memory must be failing you."

"No, no, no, no." I flapped my hands in the air. "I know that! What I meant was why is he coming here, and calling you? You guys weren't that good of friends in school."

"Yeah, I guess we weren't." Kenny agreed, sitting back down between Cartman and me. "But we kinda live together now."

"You live together?"

"Yeah, we share rent for an apartment downtown." Kenny confirmed, shrugging in nonchalance. "We've gotten kind close, he's a good guy."

"Well yeah, but it's Butters." I pressed, giving him an incredulous look. "He's just such a little pussy, how can you stand it?" Somewhere in the sober part of my mind I realized that I was being a dick, but the not sober part of me didn't seem to want to focus on that. It was more interested in the way the grass felt almost plastic under my hands, and how the diamond facets on the pond each had exactly thirty rays surrounding them. What were we talking about, again? Was Kenny yelling at me?

"You're a fucking little pussy and you don't see me not hanging out with you. I can stand you, god knows why, but I can!" He exclaimed, face flushed from anger or intoxication.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," I patted Kenny on the head and smiled, remembering that we were talking about Butters. "I really like Butters. He's a good friend."

"Well, good," Kenny replied, crossing his arms huffily over his chest. "Because he's here."

I turned towards the parking lot to see Butters shuffling across it, his hands shoved into his jean pockets and his head bowed, starring at the ground.

"Butters!" I yelled and jumped up, stumbling slightly from the unsteadiness of the ground. "Hey, man!"

The blond looked up and smiled, picking up his pace a bit once he saw me.

"Kyle?" He exclaimed, wrapping me up in a quick hug. "Gosh, what're you doin' here?"

"I'm in town for my brother's wedding." I responded as Kenny stood up next to me, greeting Butters with a smile.

"Well, what about Stan, is he here?" Butters questioned, looking hopeful.

"Uh, no. Just me."

"Oh, well that's too bad. But it sure is nice that you're here, Kyle!"

"Thanks, man. It's good to see you."

"Yeah! So, what're you fellas doin'?"

"We were just-"

"Watching the sunset!" Kenny interrupted me, giving me a significant look. He didn't want Butters to know we'd been smoking? I guess I could understand that, Butters wasn't really into that kind of thing.

"That sounds swell! Come on, it's almost set." Butters grabbed Kenny's arm and yanked him down to the ground, making him watch the last of the sunset.

"I'm hungry." Cartman declared after the sun had slipped under the horizon, breaking the silence that had temporarily come over us.

My mind formed some retort about him being a fatass, but as I turned to say it I caught the way his old jacket hung loosely around his arms and torso. It really wasn't a fitting insult anymore.

"I am, too." I said instead, not realizing it was true until my stomach grumbled.

"Let's get food." Kenny suggested. "We can go to Clyde's place."

"Aw, do we have to?" I never liked going places when I was high. I couldn't tell if it was just because it made me extremely lethargic or if I didn't want anyone else to find out. Because, if you couldn't tell, I'm not the most functional high person.

"Yes." Cartman stated firmly, standing up with Kenny and Butters. "So stop your whining."

"But-" Cartman growled and grabbed the back of my shirt, cutting me off and pulling me up to stand beside him. "Fine!"

Kenny laughed. "Come on, aren't you hungry, Kyle?"

"I'm fucking starving- I just don't want to go out in public like this!"

"What do you mean, you look great!" Butters exclaimed brightly, obviously thinking I was talking about my appearance, not my mental state of mind.

"Thank you, Butters, you look nice too." I complimented, patting the blond on the back as we made our way to the parking lot. Butters was a lot easier to handle when you were high, I was beginning to realize. His strange naiveté seemed much more endearing rather than insufferably gullible.

"Gee thanks, Kyle!"

"No problem, man."

"All right, who's riding with me?" Kenny cut in, sounding slightly irritated.

"I walked here, so I'll go with you." Butters stated, sidling up next to Kenny.

I glanced uneasily at Cartman, not wanting to ride with him but also not wanting to upset him. "Um, well since you drove me here I'll just go with you, Kenny."

"You can sit in the front, Kyle, because I get to sit in the front all the time, and we haven't seen you in forever!" Butters exclaimed as the three of us made our way to Kenny's car.

"That's so nice Butters, thank you!"

"Okay, just get in the car." Kenny demanded, rolling his eyes as he slid into the driver's seat.

Butters and I looked at each other in confusion before shrugging and getting in.

"Music!" I sang, reaching for the radio knob as Kenny started up the car. I flipped through the stations for a bit until I found a song I recognized. "Yes, I love this song!"

"Me too." Kenny agreed, tapping a beat on the steering wheel as I turned it up so loud I could feel the bass running up my spine.

I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat, letting the music and the gentle motions of the car wash over me. It felt like a million pulsating lights were running up and down my body, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. For a while I even forgot to breathe, until I noticed the car was stopping and someone was shaking my shoulder.

"Kyle? You awake?" Butters was yelling over the music and Kenny reached forward to turn it off.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm awake."

"Good, come on, we're here." Kenny announced as he stepped out of the car. Butters and I followed after him, joining Cartman as he walked across the parking lot towards us.

"So, where are we?" I questioned, realizing that we were around the back of a restaurant.

"Just this shitty little place Clyde started running about a year ago." Kenny answered, shoving his hands into his orange hoodie.

"Will Clyde be here?" I questioned, not entirely sure if I wanted to see him right now.

"Probably not. Annie might be though, she works here."

"Really? Are they still together?"

"They just got married last year, actually."

"That's cute." I blurted out before my brain could catch up to my voice.

Kenny laughed. "Cute?"

"Yeah, you know." I waved a dismissive hand through the air. "I've always thought they were good together."

"You are such a fucking girl." Cartman commented, stepping through the entrance ahead of me.

"Shut up, what's wrong with thinking they're a cute couple?" I demanded, feeling my face burn.

"Well, I don't think there's anything wrong with it." Butters intervened, placing a consoling hand on my shoulder. "I think they're real cute."

"Oh god." I moaned, covering my face with my palm as Kenny and Cartman fell into a fit of laughter. At least Cartman wasn't yelling at me. Weed can really do wonders for a person's temper.

"Hello!" A cheery voice greeted and I looked up to see Annie. "How are you guys toni- oh my gosh, is that Kyle Broflovski?"

"Hey Annie." I smiled as she pushed through our small group to wrap me up in a quick hug.

"You must be in town for your brother's wedding." She stated, more to herself than anyone else.

"Yeah. Speaking of, I heard about you and Clyde."

She blushed slightly and held up her ring finger almost unconsciously. "Yeah, he's great. We've been doing really good, business here has been great."

"That's good." I smiled genuinely at her and she glanced around at everyone else.

"Well, come on, I'll show you to your table."

We followed her through a hallway and into a pretty secluded area, especially since there was no one else there. The lighting was dim and soft music was playing, making me feel sleepy. She led us to a booth in the far corner of the room and handed us all menus.

"I don't think we really need these." Kenny commented, but opened it anyway.

"Yeah, I just want some milk. And a cheeseburger. And do you have nachos?" I asked, feeling my stomach rumble at the thought of food. Now that I thought about it, I'm pretty sure I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

"Yes, we do." Annie replied, smiling as she wrote down my order on a notepad.

"I want cheesecake." Cartman declared, sliding his menu across the table. "And a smoothie."

"Okay, what kind?" Annie questioned, pausing with her pen hovering just above the paper.

"Surprise me."

"Uh, right. And for you?" She addressed Kenny, who set his menu on top of Cartman's.

"Brownie and ice cream… and a beer."

"Ew, Kenny." Butters scrunched up his nose at the odd combination. "I just want a sprite."

"Okay, great. I'll be right back with your guys' drinks." Annie picked up the menus and turned on her heel, disappearing around the corner.

"If you're gunna drink, Kenny, then I'm driving home." Butters announced, his face set with a determined look.

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Kenny agreed, waving a dismissive hand through the air and letting it land on Butters' head. "You worry too much."

"Nu-uh." Butters argued childishly, making a face at Kenny.

"Ya-huh." Kenny countered, moving his hand to muss up the blonde's hair.

"Kenny," Butters pouted, his eyes crossing as he tried to look up at Kenny's hand. "You're going to get my hair all tangled up."

"See!" Kenny exclaimed, letting his hand fall out of his hair. "You worry too much. Who cares if your hair gets messed up? Do you see my hair," Kenny pointed to his slightly dirty hair, sticking up in all directions. "Does it look well groomed to you?"

"Well, no." Butters confessed, mashing his knuckles together in an old habit he'd never learned to break. "But you don't need to make your hair look good cause you look nice anyways."

Kenny flashed Butters a wide grin and ran a hand through his hair to mess it up even more. "I know."

Annie returned then with our drinks, and promised to be back soon with all of our food.

I grabbed my milk so quickly that I almost spilled it all over the table. I hadn't paid attention to how thirsty I was until it was sat down in front of me.

"Gee Kyle, slow down- it might come out your nose." Butters warned innocently. Unfortunately, his advice only made me laugh. Just as I was swallowing my milk.

Kenny and Butters leaned back just as the milk spewed out of my mouth (and nose) and onto the table.

"Aw, fucking sick, man!" Cartman exclaimed, making a face at the pool of milk that ruined his silverware.

"Ahhg," I groaned in pain as I clutched my nose. "Fuck, Butters. Why'd you have to make me laugh?"

"I'm awfully sorry, guys! I didn't mean to, I just didn't want milk to come out Kyle's nose!" Butters apologized, nearly twitching as he attempted to mop up the milk with his napkin.

"Well that worked well, didn't it? Now it's all over the fucking table, faggot." Cartman sneered, glaring in frustration at the nervous blond.

"Dude, stop yelling at Butters. It wasn't his fault." Kenny spoke up, sounding exasperated.

"Well fuck, Kenny!" Cartman nearly yelled, throwing his hand up in frustration and almost hitting me in the head.

"Cartman, you need to calm down, okay?" Kenny soothed, his voice growing quieter as Cartman's grew louder.

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down, Kenny." Cartman ground out through his teeth, his fists clenched on top of the table.

"Cartman, it's okay." I laid a hand on his arm, nearly flinching at how _small_ he felt. Not the big boned, fleshy person he was five years ago.

Cartman's head snapped towards me and his eyes narrowed. "Don't. Touch. Me."

I pulled my hand back but continued to hold his gaze. "I don't feel sorry for you. Just so you know."

"Good." Cartman blinked and looked down at the table. "I don't need any pity from a fucking Jew."

The four of us grew deathly quiet until we were saved by Annie coming back with our food. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply as it was set down in front of me, feeling my mouth flood with saliva.

"Oooh, I'm so hungry." I mumbled, grabbing my cheeseburger with both hands and eating nearly half of it in one bite.

"Same." Kenny spoke through a mouthful of ice cream.

"Wow, what were you guys doing before you came here?" Annie questioned, watching us stuff our faces in amusement.

"Well, we were just watchin' the sunset." Butters supplied innocently.

I groaned as Annie cocked an eye brow, but she didn't say anything more before she left us again.

"She definitely thinks we're all gay now." I declared in a monotone, shaking my head.

"Good job, Butters." Kenny patted his friend on the back.

"Well, thanks Kenny!" Butters beamed at his praise and I almost paused in my eating to face-palm for the second time that night.

The rest of our meal went on in silence; Kenny, Cartman and I enjoying our food much more than usual and Butters sipping on his sprite. When we were finished I made sure to leave Annie a good tip before leaving.

I could tell that I was coming down, now. Especially after eating so much. All I wanted to do was curl up on the hard mattress in my motel room and sleep.

"It was awfully nice seeing you again, Kyle! When do you have to leave?" Butters asked as Kenny pulled into the motel.

"Not after Ike's wedding." I replied, turning in my seat to look at Butters' hopeful face.

"Good! Then we can all hang out again, soon."

"Yeah, maybe tomorrow? I have to go tux shopping with my brother, but I'm free at night."

"Tomorrow is good. Cartman will come, too." Kenny declared, smiling tiredly at me.

"Are you sure, Kenny?" I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "He really doesn't seem like he's going to forgive me. I don't see the point in trying if he's so dead set on hating me."

Kenny shook his head. "Cartman doesn't hate you, Kyle. He just needs a reason to hold onto his anger and, unfortunately, you fit the roll perfectly."

"Yeah, me and _Token_." I pointed out. "Don't forget that he was yelling at him the other night and I can bet that he didn't do anything wrong."

"That was when he was drunk, Kyle. Cartman hates everyone when he's drunk. As you can see, he was much more congenial tonight."

I scoffed. "Not much."

"You promised me, Kyle. You promised you would give him until you had to leave." Kenny reminded, giving me a hard look.

"I know. I'm not going back on it; I'm just saying that I don't think there's a point."

"There _is_ a point. Trust me, I know Cartman."

"I know Cartman just as well as you, Kenny. And I know that with the way things are going he'll never forgive me."

"That just proves you don't know him as well as me. Because I know he _will _forgive you. You just have to give it some time."

I shook my head as I stepped out of the car. "You'd better be right, Kenny."

"I always am." He replied, smiling cockily at me as I slammed the door shut.

I watched him drive away as I thought about Cartman. His dead-looking green eyes, the way he felt so thin. Was it wrong that I maybe I hoped, just a little bit, that Kenny was right?

* * *

**A/N: **Wellllllll? What'd you think?

I think my favorite part was when Kyle spit milk out his nose^^

Oh, and I know Bunny wasn't everyone's first choice and I'm sorry, but once I got the idea of them stuck in my head I couldn't think of any other way to write the story! So, I apologize to all of those who are disappointed with this pairing, I hope it won't affect you reading the rest of the story.

THANKS EVERYONE!^^


	5. Up And Down

**A/N: **Yay! Chapter five^^ I think I really like this chapter. It's my shortest for this story so far (not by much) but I feel like a lot happens in it.

Last chapter someone asked me if Kyle's mom knew that he was gay. I think this is a very good question and I will answer for you all right now!

No, she does not know. Kyle and Stan didn't even know until after they left, so no one in South Park knows about them or the fact that they are gay. Except Kenny^^

Also, for the rest of you out there that are unclear about _exactly_ why Kyle's mom is so pissed at him, I hope this chapter sheds a little more light on it, but it will be a developing thing, so there will be much more on the subject.

That's all I've got to say, so ENJOY!

* * *

I arrived at my parent's house at noon the next day to pick up Ike. He was waiting for me on the porch, and ran to my car as I pulled into the drive way. Mom must have been in a foul mood that morning if he was so keen for me not to enter the house.

"Hey, kid." I greeted as he slid into the passenger seat. "We're going to Denver, right?"

"Actually, there's a place in Boulder I've heard about. I was thinking we could go there instead."

I shrugged as I backed out of the drive way. "Fine with me."

The ride was relatively quiet without Sarah there to initiate conversation. Ike and I had never been big on talking, and I actually enjoyed our silence. It was his company, his presence, that I had missed- not the things he had to say.

"Think we could stop somewhere to eat first?" I questioned as I drove off the exit ramp to Boulder. "I woke up like half an hour before I came to get you."

"Yeah, sure. I haven't eaten lunch either."

I scoffed. "Mom let you leave the house without a full stomach?"

Ike blushed and looked out the window. "She doesn't exactly know that I'm with you."

"What?"

"I kind of snuck out of the house." Ike confessed, a wry smile on his face.

"What a _bad ass_!" I exclaimed, punching him in the shoulder. "The nineteen-year-old who is getting married in less than two weeks has to sneak away from mommy to hang out with his big brother!"

"Hey, shut up! You know how she is." Ike pointed out, giving me a knowing look.

I laughed, but nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I know, man. You had just better hope she doesn't find out."

"I don't think she will. Sarah has her occupied looking through old photo albums in the basement. She told her she wants to make a slide show for the wedding."

"Genius."

"I know." Ike replied, flashing me a cheeky smile.

"Don't let it go to your head, kid."

I drove us through a fast food place before heading to the tux shop across town. We sat in the parking lot while we finished our food and talked more about Sarah and our family. I could tell that Ike was unbelievably excited to be getting married, and it kind of surprised me. Ike had never come across as the type of person who would feel at ease in a domesticated relationship. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the Ike I used to know was not the same person. He had changed more than I would be able to piece together in the short amount of time I was going to be with him, and that frightened me. I didn't want to be a part of a family I knew nothing about anymore.

Ike's genuine enthusiasm for settling down and starting a family also made me think about Stan. I couldn't picture myself being married, let alone to another guy. This bothered me too, making me realize that I had absolutely no long term plans for my future other than an idea of what profession I wanted to get into. What was I seriously planning on doing with the rest of my life? Living with Stan? Unmarried, with no children. Stan was all I had ever wanted though, so I forced myself to push those thoughts to the back of my head and deal with them when I got back to Seattle.

* * *

I dropped Ike off at our parent's around four. Mom came to stand on the porch when she saw us coming and, though she didn't say anything, I could tell she was upset that we left without her knowing. Before she decided to yell at me I drove away, deciding to drive around until I found something to do until Kenny got off work.

Driving around South Park was depressing. The town was never pristine or perfect when I was a kid, but it seemed to be getting worse as I grew older. Kids with torn jackets and no socks played in the dirty snow near the streets. Stray dogs limped around graffiti littered alley ways, their ribs poking through their mangy fur. It was almost unbearable to look at.

After about an hour I passed by Tweak's coffee shop. I figured I should stop in and see him, especially since we were going to become family in less than two weeks. Besides, I could go for some coffee- it was damn cold out.

I parked my car outside and walked up the snow covered side walk, trying to look in through the shop windows but there were too many flyers covering it. It was warm and slightly dark inside, making me sigh in contentment. The comparison to the outside atmosphere was unbelievable.

"Kyle?" A stressed voice called from behind the counter.

I smiled and stepped up to Tweak, pulling off my gloves as I walked. "Hey, Tweak!"

"Wh-what are you doing here?" He questioned, his left eye twitching slightly.

"I'm in town for my brother's wedding. I guess we're going to be family soon, huh?"

"Oh! Yeah, I guess we are!" Tweak exclaimed, his blue eyes lighting up like he had just established this connection. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

"Are you going to be in the wedding?"

"Wh- y-yeah." Tweak stated, his head jerking to the side as he twitched. "Didn't Ike t-tell you?"

I tilted my head in confusion as I watched Tweak wring his hands nervously. "Tell me what?"

"Agh! I can't tell you."

I sighed and glanced up at the chalk board filled with coffee orders above his head. I decided to let it go and ask Ike about it later. He'd probably give me a clearer answer anyway. "Fine. Will you let me buy you a cup of coffee?"

"Wh-what? Why?"

"Because I want to talk to you. I haven't seen you in five years."

"But I'm working right now!" Tweak's hands shook as he pulled at a clump of hair.

"It's okay, Tweak, there's no one here right now. If anyone comes in you can take their order."

Tweak's entire body seemed to shudder as he thought this over. "A-alright! But we can't take too long."

"Okay."

I moved to sit on a love-seat in front of a small fireplace as Tweak made us some coffee. He nearly spilled it all over the floor as he came to sit with me and I wondered briefly how he managed to work here. He had to spill coffee on people on a regular basis.

"So, what's new?" I asked as he took a cautious sip of coffee, sighing as it passed his lips.

"Um, well, my mom and dad have given me the shop."

"Really? That's great, when did they do that?"

"Just last year." Tweak replied, taking another drink of his coffee and visibly relaxing. How coffee could actually calm someone down I will never know.

"Do they still live here in town?"

"No, they moved to New York when my mom's sister got sick."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, well no. I mean she's still… here, but she has cancer."

"Oh, I see. I'm sorry, my grandma died of cancer when I was younger. What kind of cancer does she have?"

"Breast. My family's been doing a lot of breast cancer awareness fundraising since they found out." He declared, holding up his wrist to show me a pink livestrong bracelet. "Look at your coffee cup."

I turned my cup in my hand to see a pink ribbon on the side and a small font next to it that said twenty five cents of every purchase goes towards a breast cancer foundation. I smiled as I looked back up at Tweak. "How much do I owe you for these, then?"

His eye twitched again. "It's on the house."

"No seriously, I can pay. You have to take care of this place by yourself, after all."

Tweak chewed on his bottom lip as his hand jerked, nearly spilling his coffee. "Okay. It's eight bucks."

I pulled out my wallet and handed him a ten. "Don't worry about the change."

"Th-thanks, man."

Tweak and I continued talking for a good two hours. A few people came in and Tweak made their orders quickly before resuming our conversation. When I left I felt almost relieved. It was nice to know that someone was still the same and not all secretive and mysterious like Kenny and Cartman had become.

I still had two hours before I had to meet Kenny, so I drove back to my motel and called Stan. We didn't talk about much, just a replay of what we had done that day. While we were talking I remembered what I had been thinking about earlier that day. I think Stan could tell that I was acting a little distant, but I couldn't help it. All I could think about was what I really wanted to do with my life. And at the end of our phone call I still didn't have an answer.

I pulled up at the gas station around a few minutes before nine and was just about to get out of my car when Kenny walked out.

"Hey man." I greeted as he slipped into the passenger seat.

"We're going to a movie tonight." He announced without any preamble.

"Um, okay. What movie?"

"Not sure. But I know it's at ten thirty in Denver."

"All the way in Denver? You know, I've already driven out to Boulder today."

"What for?"

"Tux shopping with my brother."

"I bet Ike looks good in a tux." Kenny mused, a broad grin on his face. "Are you proud of him?"

"For what? Getting married?" Kenny nodded. "I guess so. I mean, I had never thought of him as the kind of person to be so domesticated, but I admire that he's willing to make that kind of commitment."

"You really admire it? I think it's stupid."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I mean he's looking at the big picture not just the here and now."

"Sometimes living in the moment can be more productive." Kenny murmured, almost to himself.

"So, do I have to pick up Cartman and Butters, then?" I questioned as I started my engine, shifting into reverse.

"Yeah, we'd better get going. We're cutting it close trying to be in Denver by ten thirty."

I nodded and drove out of the parking lot, taking a left to go down Butters' street.

"Dude, where are you going?" Kenny asked, looking out his window in confusion.

"Uh, Butters' house?"

"Butters doesn't live with his parents anymore. He lives with me, remember? Take a right."

"Oh, right. Sorry, old habit I guess."

"It's okay. Turn left at the stop sign."

I came out in an apartment complex and parked in front of the entrance.

"I'll call him and let him know we're here." Kenny stated, pulling out his cell.

Butters' was in the car five minutes later and I was about to pull out of the parking lot when I stopped, turning to Kenny.

"Wait, so does Cartman still live in his old house?"

"Yeah." Kenny replied.

I turned right and took the familiar path to Cartman's house. He was already waiting outside, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his brown jacket and his hat pulled low on his head. I noticed that all the lights in his house were off and I wondered where his mom was. Probably out doing 'business' as she always put it when they were kids.

Cartman got into the back next to Butters without a word and I hesitated before backing out of his drive, almost mentioning something about his mom. My better judgment told me that talking about her would just piss him off though, so I let it go.

Kenny messed with the radio the entire trip, making sure every bout of silence between the four of us was masked with loud music. I didn't mind, I always hated those awkward pauses at the end of a conversation when no one knew what to say next. Apparently Kenny did too. Or he just wanted to make this seem as fun as possible.

I ended up making in to Denver in record time, probably because the roads were nearly empty. We got to the movie theater at ten and I was actually surprised at how crowded it was. There wasn't a ton of people, but definitely more than I had expected. When we used to go to movies in Denver in high school it was never too crowded during the week.

"Butters, you go get snacks. Kyle and Cartman, go wait in line to be seated so we can get good spots. I'll take care of the tickets." Kenny ordered, pointing to where each person should go.

"I'm not letting you and Butters pay for everything." I protested, trying to hand them some money.

"Oh please, it's not that much. We can take care of it." Kenny assured, shoving my outstretched arm away from him. "Just go get in line."

I sigh in irritation but complied, going to stand in the steadily growing line. Cartman stood beside me, just far enough away to make it look like we weren't together.

"What are you doing?" I questioned, giving him a quizzical look.

"Standing." He replied, sounding bored.

"Why are you so far away from me?"

"Because I don't want to get your Jew cooties." He drawled, his voice sounding dull and unauthentic.

"Oh, please. Get over here."

"No."

"Come _on._"

"_No._"

"Seriously, Cartman." I ground my teeth together in irritation, glaring at the brunette who only shifted further away from me. "God dammit!" I exclaimed, reaching forward and grabbing hold of his forearm to pull him towards me.

"Ah! The fuck." Cartman growled as he lost his balance and slammed into my side.

"There." I declared, keeping hold of his arm to steady myself and make sure he didn't move. "That's not so bad, is it?"

"Of course it is, now let go of me!" He demanded, trying to wriggle out of my grasp.

"Not unless you promise to stand next to me and stop acting like a child."

"Fine!"

I smiled and slackened my grip on his arm, letting my hand fall back to my side.

"Stupid Jew." He muttered under his breath, but stayed close by my side.

Not long after, Kenny and Butters joined us in line, both talking animatedly about how excited they were to see the movie. Apparently it was some new action movie full of explosions and crashes. Typical.

"Aren't you excited, Kyle?" Butters questioned, his eyes wide and twinkling in the light of the lobby.

I shrugged in indifference. "I don't really go see movies that often. It's not my thing."

"Me neither." Cartman spoke up, his eyes focused far away as if he was simply thinking out loud.

"Well, I love going to movies!" Butters continued, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "One time Kenny and I came here to see Valentine's Day. Did you see that movie, Kyle? It was so good!"

"Uh, no. I've never seen that movie." I replied, giving Kenny a weird look. He just waved a dismissive hand through the air and rolled his eyes at Butters.

We moved pretty quickly through the line and pretty soon we were filing into our theater, the lights dimming just as we walked in.

"Where do you want to sit?" I whispered to Kenny.

He shrugged and looked around. There were a few people scattered throughout the seats, but not many. "Near the front?"

"The front? I wanna sit all the way in the very back, Kenny!" Butters pouted and pointed towards the back of the theater.

"Alright, whatever." Kenny grabbed the hand Butters was pointing with as he walked past and dragged him up the stairs.

I paused for a moment as I watched them walk away. "What is with those two?"

"You really haven't figured it out?" A voice whispered near the back of my head and I turned to see Cartman standing over me.

"Figured what out?"

Cartman glanced down at me and started following after Kenny and Butters. "Nothing."

* * *

The movie was boring and clichéd in my opinion, but Kenny and Butters obviously thought differently. They ran through the lobby of the theater as we were walking out, reenacting scenes very loudly and very poorly.

"If you want to take the computer chip, you're going to have to kill me!" Kenny yelled dramatically, holding up an imaginary chip to Butters' face.

"Then I am going to kill you!" Butters shouted back, pulling a gun in the shape of his finger and thumb out of his back pocket.

"NO!" Kenny ran past Butters at full speed and ran into a table. "Holy shit, ouch!"

"That's what you get for acting like a fucking idiot." I scolded, leaning over where he was lying on the ground holding his stomach.

"Fuck you." He spat, standing back up.

"Are you okay, Kenny!" Butters bounded between us, a concerned look on his face.

Kenny's eyes flashed to me quickly before he clutched at his stomach and bended over in pain. "I don't know, it hurts pretty bad."

"Aw, I'm sure sorry Kenny." Butters apologized, chewing his lip in worry. "I didn't mean for you to get hurt."

"I know, it's not your fault." Kenny assured as Butters pulled one of his arms around his shoulders to help him walk. I watched in amusement as Kenny curled an arm around Butters' waist and pulled him closer, leaning his cheek on the top of his head.

"Do you get it now?" A voice questioned from beside me and I turned to see Cartman, watching Kenny and Butters with a strange expression on his face.

I laughed a little and looked at them again. "Yeah, I think I do."

As we were making our way through the parking lot I pulled out my phone. I had put it on silent while we were in the theater and I wanted to make sure Stan or someone hadn't called me. When I flipped it open I realized I had four missed calls from my brother.

"Hang on, guys. I've got to call my brother." I called as I slowed down.

"What for?" Kenny asked, looking confused.

"He tried calling me four times when we were at the movie." I responded, hitting the send button and walking slowly behind everyone.

I was working on unlocking my car door when he picked up.

"Kyle?" He sounded relieved.

I pressed my phone between my ear and shoulder as I opened my car door and stepped inside. "Hey Ike. Sorry I missed your calls. What's up?"

"Well, um. I was just wondering. You see, mom is… upset with me and I was just wondering if I could crash with you tonight."

I heard someone yelling in the background and winced. "Of course you can. I'm just on my way back from Denver, I'll pick you up when I get back to town, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks so much."

"Yeah, no problem. Just lock yourself in your room until I get there, alright?"

Ike laughed. "Like I haven't already down that."

"Good, I'll see you soon."

"What's going on?" Kenny asked from beside me as I shut my phone and started my car.

"My mom's having one of her fits and Ike wants to stay with me for the night."

"Darn it!" Kenny exclaimed, sitting back in his seat with a pout on his face. "I wanted to go out to the bar tonight."

"You can still go; I'll drop you off on my way."

"Yeah, but I wanted you to come!"

"Kenny, it's not a big deal. We'll go out tomorrow night."

"I guess that'll work." Kenny mumbled and I turned my head to give him a confused look. He was acting so strange lately; I was beginning to feel like he was up to something.

The ride back to town was completely filled with music. Apparently no one was in the talking mood, so Kenny turned it up extra loud. I dropped them all off at Cartman's bar and told them to call me if they needed a ride later before going to pick up my brother.

I called him as I pulled into the drive way to let him know I was there. It took a good fifteen minutes before he finally came out, looking disheveled.

"What happened to you?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow at his messed up hair and clothes.

"Just trying to get past mom."

"Right." I chuckled as we started down the street. "So why is mom so upset with you?"

"Because I left with you without telling her today."

I sighed and gripped my steering wheel a little tighter. "Seriously? What, are you supposed to ask for her permission to go places with me now? When is she going to get over this! So I'm not the perfect child she's always wanted me to be, sorry I'm such a big fucking disappointment to her."

"I know, Kyle. But you know how she is." Ike started, speaking with a rational mind. "She can't just let things go. Most people learn how to forgive and forget over time but for her it's just like a festering wound. The longer you were gone and the longer you avoided talking to her the more agitated she got. Honestly, she's more upset with you now than when you first left."

I glanced at Ike's profile and saw the sadness etched into his features. Mom wasn't the only person I had hurt, and I knew that. I just didn't know what to do about it all; it had been so long since it had happened.

"I have to do something, don't I? If I ever want things to be alright again."

Ike raised his head to look at me and offered a small smile. "Yeah, you do."

"I suppose you're not going to help me, are you?"

He chuckled softly and looked back at his lap. "No. You have to do this on your own."

I tried to ignore the hint of steel to his words as I continued driving, but the underlying contempt in his voice was certainly unmistakable. I have to do this on my own- to make up for all of the things I left him to handle on his own.

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**A/N: **What was my favorite part this chapter, you ask? Well, that would have to be when Kenny ran into the table :)

Let me know what your favorite part was! Thanks so much my awesome readers^^

I really hope you all liked this chapter, I can feel things starting to pick up, can't you?:)


	6. A Wrench In The Works

**A/N: **Oh my gosh, I'm FINALLY updating. I'm so sorry for the long wait, but I've just been extremely busy. I've had this like over half way finished for at least a month, it was just difficult finding the motivation to sit down and complete it. So I'm sorry, I will try not to let myself do it again!

I hope you all haven't given up on this since it's taken me an eternity!

ENJOY

* * *

I know that there's no good excuse to start drinking at ten in the morning on a Wednesday, but I honestly couldn't think of anything else I would have rather been doing. Kenny didn't get off work until later that night; Ike was spending the day going over wedding plans with Sarah, and I needed _something_ to take my mind off of Stan. So that's how I found myself sitting outside of Cartman's bar, my car still running as I debated on going inside.

Not an hour earlier I was standing in the grocery store, helping my brother with his awful punishment of being sent off to buy groceries. I swear, my mother never had the stomach to discipline him like she did me. Anyway, I ended up running into Wendy Testaburger, which I found odd because she was accepted to a college in California before Stan and I left for Seattle. She told me she was back in town for my brother's wedding, and I told her I didn't even know that they were friends. She freaked out on me, right in the middle of the frozen foods section, and started yelling about how I never paid attention to anyone besides Stan back in school, and what an insensitive asshole I am.

I guess I could have brushed our unusual encounter aside and attributed it to Wendy's overwhelming ability to bitch about any given subject, but it was what she said last that threw me off. I was fed up with listening to her accuse me of things I had never actually done and was just on the verge of walking away from her when she grabbed me by the arm and looked me dead in the eyes.

"We were engaged, you know. Before he ran away with you and left me in this shit hole." She nearly whispered, though her voice was still full of more venom than I ever thought possible in a human being.

I should have said more. I should have contradicted her, or asked her for more details, or told her she was fucking crazy, but all I could do was turn and walk away. Well, run would be a better word since I left my cart in the middle of the aisle and sprinted to the parking lot, where I stayed unlike Ike found me half an hour later. I picked my phone up about a million times during that period, scrolling through my contacts list and stopping at Stan's name, my finger hovering over the send button. But in the end I never called. My hands were shaking too much and I was afraid my voice would, too. Besides, how do you even start a conversation centered around the fact that your boyfriend's psycho ex-girlfriend cornered you in a grocery store and told you that he abandoned his fiancée to run off with you.

And that's how I found myself sitting outside of a bar at ten in the morning. It was my phone ringing that really made the decision to go in for me, as I checked the caller ID and realized it was Stan. I threw my phone onto the passenger seat of my car and slammed my door behind me, my mouth watering for strong alcohol.

As I walked up to the bar, I was able to appreciate the interior of it for the first time. When I had gone with Kenny it was too crowded to enjoy the surroundings but now, with only one other customer shoved away in the corner, I could tell that it was incredibly modern. There were several large black couches around a flat screen television near the back, a state of the art stereo system on the opposite side, and all of the booths were high backed and covered in shiny black leather.

There was no bartender behind the counter, so I sat on one of the cushy barstools and let my mind wander as I took in the décor.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Someone spoke up, nearly jolting me out of my seat. I looked up to see Cartman standing behind the counter, a mildly surprised look on his face and a rag slung over his shoulder.

"I need a drink." I demanded, giving him a look that said I clearly wasn't up for his bullshit.

Cartman stared blankly at me before bending down and pulling out a couple bottles of alcohol. I rested my head in my hand as I watched him expertly mix some drink I didn't recognize. He put the bottles back under the counter when he was done and set the glass in front of me, an expectant look on his face.

I shot him a cautious glance before picking the glass up and taking an experimental sip. My eyes watered as I felt the liquid burn down my throat and into my stomach, but I managed to keep it down. It actually felt good, like it was burning everything away.

"What's the matter, too hard for you?" Cartman sneered as he watched me struggle with the harshness of it.

"No, actually." I tipped the glass back and downed the rest of it, slamming it down on the counter as I finished. "Give me another."

Cartman blinked and then a smirk slipped on to his face as he pulled the bottles back out and refilled my glass.

"Drink up, Jew."

Eight shots and nearly twenty insults later, I was completely hammered and the filter that ran from my brain to my mouth was obviously malfunctioning as I began spilling my heart out to my only known enemy. Well, aside from those jerks that worked above me at the publishing company.

"Shit, that's what's gotten you so worked up?" Cartman questioned, his famous 'you're a fucking retard' face swimming before my eyes as I tried to keep my head up. "Why do you even care? It's Stan's fault for pussing out and ditching on Wendy. What do you have to do with it?"

The fact that Cartman hadn't realized Stan and I were together flashed a danger sign in my mind, warning me not to broach that particular subject. But of course, as soon as the thought ran through my head, it was spilling from my lips.

"Because Stan is my fucking boyfriend! He should have at least-" I was halted by the look that crossed over Cartman's face, registering just a few seconds later than it should have. "Well, fuck that." I mumbled, throwing back another drink as Cartman's fists clenched on the counter.

"I think you should leave now, Kyle." Cartman spoke with no emotion, his eyes starring blankly into mine.

"Whadder you talking about?" I slurred, a feeling of anger and rejection surging through me. "This is the first normal convers-la-tion that we've had in…" I paused while I thought back through the years. "Ever! I'm not leaving now."

"I swear Jew, if you don't get the fuck out of my bar right now, I will physically throw you out." Cartman threatened, his eyes growing black as they always did when he was upset.

"You're eyes are black." I observed, standing up from my barstool, the upper half of my body immediately falling over the counter. "Whoa! Doesn't really hit ya until you stand up, huh?"

"You're a fucking retard." Cartman spat, walking around the counter to stand next to me, the black of his pupils shrinking considerably.

I grappled blindly, my vision swirling as I found purchase on his arm.

"Fucking Marsh." He whispered, his eyes boring a crater right into my soul as I steadied myself against him.

"Yeah, f-fucking Marsh." I agreed, nodding my head vigorously and then groaning as that only made everything spin around much faster.

"I'll call Kenny to come get you." He declared, reaching into the back pocket of his worn-out jeans without breaking eye contact.

I laughed and patted him on his head, like he was a child. "Don't bother Kenny, he's still at work, stupid."

He rolled his eyes and motioned towards the clock above the bar. "It's nine-thirty, asshole."

"Oh, really?" My voice grew to an incredibly high pitch as I questioned him.

"Yes, really." He replied, shaking his head as he grabbed onto both of my shoulders and led me to a booth, easing me into it slowly. "Now just stay here."

I nodded again, forgetting that only made my vision swim like a hurricane of colors.

Cartman sighed as I grabbed my head, laying it down on the table and breathing heavily until the sudden wave of nausea passed. He hesitated beside me before sliding into the seat across from me, his phone already pressed to his ear.

"Hey," he answered, his voice sounding dull and controlled. He paused for a while, listening to Kenny talk before nodding to himself. "Yeah, he's here."

A hand placed on the table between us began beating out an unsteady rhythm as he continued listening to Kenny on the other line. "Could you just come get him? He's drunk out of his fucking Jew-infested mind."

I let my gaze wander over his face as he explained to Kenny why I was at his bar, and hadn't come to pick him up after he got off his shift at the gas station.

"Yeah, so could- will you stop fucking grinning at me like that, you creepy fucker?" Cartman suddenly spat, and it took my delayed reactions a few seconds to work out that he was talking to me. I quickly rearranged my face, but it must have looked completely ludicrous because I caught the faintest smile ghost across his lips.

"Okay, see you." Cartman lowered his phone from his ear and slipped it back into his pocket. "Kenny'll be here in a few minutes."

"Is he mad?"

"God- no. He was just… worried. He didn't know where you were, seeing as how you two have been attached by the fucking dick since you got back."

I felt my face scrunch up in a smile and the most unmanly giggle escaped past my lips. Cartman gave me a funny look and I saw that almost smile sweep across his face again.

"Did you just giggle like a girl?"

"Wha- no!"

"Don't lie, Jew. It's very unbecoming on you."

I opened my mouth to continue disagreeing, but Cartman talked over me. "Just sit here and keep quiet until Kenny comes for you." He ordered as he stood up. "I don't need you scaring my customers away."

I watched blearily as he walked away and the most insane notion to start crying flooded me. Of course I didn't though, because I'm a guy and guys just don't cry. Especially when they're drunk. And _especially _not because of Eric Cartman.

So I sat in my booth and let my head loll on my shoulder as I waited for Kenny. There was no shortage for entertainment, as the bar had somehow managed to fill up without me noticing. The music was pumping loud and the people were pressed up against each other, barely any space between their grinding bodies. It was a lot darker than I remembered it being earlier, also, and it was making me feel lethargic. And dizzy.

"Hey, man!" A voice shouted near my ear, making me jump, my eyes snapping open. "What do you think you're doing, running off to Cartman and getting plastered without me?"

"Kenny! I'm so glad that you came!"

"Of course I came. I couldn't let you stay here alone with Cartman, who knows what he would have done with you."

"Cartman was fine, he took care of me." I corrected.

Kenny gave me a strange look as he sat in the booth across from me. "How much have you had to drink today?"

"Oh, um, I don't know. I started around… ten. Why?"

"Because you're obviously having drunken delusions if you think Cartman was taking care of you."

"He really was!" I defended. "He was nicer than I've ever seen him!"

"Okay, Kyle." Kenny laughed to himself as he flagged down a waitress.

"Hello! Can I help you guys?" A small girl with her black hair tied back into a bun questioned as she came to a stop at our table. She looked at us expectantly, a cheery grin on her face and a hand with long, red nails resting on her hip.

"Hey babe," Kenny greeted, giving the girl a quick once-over before fixing his grey eyes on her wide, green ones. "Just get me a beer. And tell Cartman to get his fat ass over here."

"Sure thing, Ken." She consented, giving him a wink before disappearing into the crowd.

"Why do you want to bother Cartman? I think he wants me to leave."

"Screw that, we're all getting drunk off our asses tonight! I don't know what he thought he was going to do, but he's hanging with us."

"I think he thought he was going to work…"

Kenny glanced at me as he shoved a cigarette in his mouth. "Fuck, Kyle. Haven't I told you that Cartman owns this bar? He can have any of his employees run it without him, and they aren't allowed to complain or he'll fire them. He can do whatever he wants."

"Well, what if I just wanna go home?"

"Then I'll call you a pussy and tell you that you'll have to walk because Cartman gave me your keys."

I reached in my pockets as Kenny pulled my keys out of his coat, dangling them in front of his face through a cloud of smoke.

"Fuck you."

"I'll need a few more drinks, first." Kenny replied, giving me a wink as our waitress reappeared.

"Here's your beer, Ken. Cartman said he'll be out in a few minutes." She reported and turned to me. "Can I get you anything, hon?"

"I think I'm good for tonight."

"Ah, shut up!" Kenny demanded, giving me a glare. "Just tell Cartman to bring him out a drink."

The girl gave Kenny a nod and turned on her heel, heading off to find Cartman again.

"So, how did you end up here?" Kenny questioned me, pulling his cigarette out of his mouth to take a drink from his bottle. "You had me worried sick, you know. I waited for twenty minutes outside the gas station, thinking you were just running late or something."

"I don't really remember." I replied, giving him a small shrug, trying to think back on what had led me to Cartman's bar. "I was at the grocery store with my brother, and I saw Wendy-"

"Wendy Testaburger?"

"Yeah. We talked… and she told me that she and Stan were engaged before we left. Then I came here."

"Wait, what? She told you that she and Stan were engaged?"

"Uh," I paused for a second, thinking back on our brief conversation. It all seemed a bit fuzzy at the moment, though. "Yeah. Pretty sure."

"That can't be true. Is that why you came here and started drinking? Because of Stan and Wendy?"

"Yeah. I was sitting outside the bar, and then he called me. I didn't answer- I couldn't think of anything I could have to say to him right now."

"Kyle, I think Wendy is just being her naturally manipulative self." Kenny consoled, reaching across the table to pat my arm. "She's probably just pissed that you took Stan away from her and she's trying to get revenge. I wouldn't put any stock into it, really."

"No, it's true. I talked to my brother after, and he said that he was the only person Wendy told about it. Apparently they were like super secret best friends back in high school."

"Wendy and Ike? No fucking way."

"That's what I said. But then she just got all bitchy and told me I was too blinded by Stan to see what was right in front of me… or something like that."

"This doesn't sound right." Kenny stated, shaking his head as he took a long drag from his cigarette. "Stan would never do something like that."

"Whatever." I replied, leaning back in my seat and gazing out at the crowd right as Cartman came bursting through it.

"What the fuck do you want, Kenny?" He blared over the masses of people and pumping music.

"Hello to you too, my best friend in all of South Park." Kenny greeted sarcastically, giving Cartman a shit-eating grin.

"I can't deal with you two shit heads tonight, I'm trying to work."

"That's bullshit. You never have to work."

"Well, maybe I'm finally trying to earn my way."

Kenny scoffed exaggeratedly and scooted over in his booth, patting the spot next to him. "Come on, it's all nice and warm for ya. I even ordered you a beer."

"That's yours, I just saw Heather getting it for you." Cartman responded bitterly, but slid into the booth regardless.

"All right!" Kenny threw an arm around Cartman in joy and gave me a toothy smile. "Just the three of us tonight- we're going to fuck shit up!"

"Why just the three of us? Where's Butters?" I questioned, feeling a little tired but substantially more focused on my surroundings.

"Oh, I guess I meant the four of us. Butters should be here in a little bit; he said he had to stop by the store to get some scrap booking stuff."

Both Cartman and I went silent as we stared open-mouthed at Kenny. Cartman was eventually the first to find his voice.

"Uh, faggot much?"

"What?" Kenny questioned, looking genuinely confused at our reaction.

"Butters… scrap books?" I continued to elaborate for Cartman, who had lost the right words again.

"Well, I mean not all the time, but he was really excited that you're in town, so he wanted to make one for you. Dammit you guys, now you've made me ruin the surprise! Butters made me promise not to tell."

"I promise I'll pretend like I had no idea." I assured a little half-heartedly. It was odd that Butters wanted to make me a scrap book, sure, but it _was _Butters. I figured nothing should shock me about him after learning about Professor Chaos back in the fourth grade.

"Kay, thanks man. He'd be pretty upset with me if he knew that I'd told you."

I nodded in affirmation and picked up the beer Cartman had set on the table for me. "Since when did you become such a little bitch, by the way?"

Kenny started like he was going to be angry and then caught the light-hearted expression on my face, hid slightly by my beer. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on. Really Kenny, I always pegged you as the guy in that sort of situation, but I guess I see who wears the pants now."

"Whatever, I bet you bend over like a little bitch for Stan." Kenny snapped back, realizing only a second too late exactly what he'd said.

The three of us grew uncomfortably quiet, and I caught an acute tensing in Cartman's jaw, no doubt from the exertion of trying not to spew out some demeaning comment.

"Besides," Kenny started quietly, obviously trying to break the awkward moment. "Butters and me aren't like that."

I cast a cautious glance to Cartman, who was sipping his beer with a far away look on his face, before speaking. "Yeah sure, Kenny. I've seen the way you guys act together."

The blond simply shrugged and cast his eyes down to pick at the sleeve of his orange hoodie. "We're just really good friends. Kinda like how you and me used to be."

He gave me this horribly pathetic look as he spoke, his blue eyes all large and glistening. "Don't try to play the horrible friend card to change the subject."

"It was worth a try." Kenny sighed and rested his forearms on the table.

"So, what exactly does your guys' situation in tale? Do you like sleep in the same bed, or do you take the couch? And who tops? Please tell me it's you, or I might lose what little respect I have for you."

"It's honestly not like that!" Kenny exclaimed, looking upset and casting a pleading look at Cartman.

Cartman starred lazily back at Kenny and took an exasperated breathe. "He's telling the truth. Nothing's going on between them. Yet."

"Yet?" I repeated, coaxing him to continue.

"Kenny has a major boner for him, but he doesn't have the balls to do anything." Cartman explained, sounding bored and a little irritated.

"Well shit, Kenny. I never knew you could be such a pussy."

"Fuck off, Kyle. You don't know what it's like."

"What could possibly be the problem? We've all known that Butters is a fruit since fourth grade. Just make a move."

"It's not that simple." Kenny stated, a ring of finality in his voice that left no room for further questioning. Which was okay, since Butters stumbled out of the crowd only a few seconds later.

"H-hey guys!" He stuttered, his face bright red and his clothing disheveled.

"Butters, are you okay?" Kenny questioned with concern, sitting up straight in his seat as soon as he laid eyes on him.

"Yeah, I'm fine! It was just hard to find you guys with all these people here!" He assured softly, averting his eyes as he sat down next to me.

"Are you sure?" Kenny leaned across the table and grabbed Butters face with one hand, forcing him to look at him. Butters tried to twist his face away, but Kenny held fast, a deep crease forming in his brow as he got a better look at his face.

"Why is your eye swollen?" Kenny's voice sounded strained, like he was trying to hold himself back. "And why have you been crying?"

"I'm fine, Kenny!" Butters shouted, grabbing his wrist with both his hands and shoving it away from him.

Kenny leaned back in his seat and stared with lidded eyes at Butters, who continued to hang his head. "Will you guys excuse us for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, of course." I agreed, watching silently as Kenny slid out of the booth and stood next to Butters, waiting for him to follow. When he finally stood up, Kenny gently placed an arm around him and led him outside.

"What the hell do you think happened?" I asked Cartman once they were gone.

He shrugged and took a gulp of beer. "I have no idea. But it looks like Butters is going to have one hell of a shiner tomorrow."

"Does this happen a lot? I mean, Butters showing up looking like he was jumped by someone?"

Cartman was quiet for so long that I almost thought he was just going to ignore my question until he finally spoke in a near whisper. "It's happened a few times."

"Why? Who's doing it?"

"All of the gay hating hicks that live in this town." Cartman replied, a bitter undertone betraying his blank expression.

"Why doesn't he tell someone?"

"Who is he going to tell, the police? I'm pretty sure some of them are in on it."

"How often does it happen?" I asked quietly, feeling desperately hopeless. How could anyone think of hurting Butters? He was the most innocent, harmless person I'd ever met.

"Anytime they can catch him alone, usually at night. Ever since the first time Kenny has been reluctant to let him go anywhere by himself, but since you've been back he's been neglecting that a bit."

I swallowed dryly and let my gaze fall on the table, a feeling of guilt settling in my stomach like a cancer. Cartman and I remained in silence as we waited for Kenny and Butters to come back, which didn't take too long. At least they both looked marginally more upbeat than before.

"Sorry about that, guys." Kenny apologized, shoving Cartman over in the booth so he could sit down.

"It's no problem. Is everything okay?" I inquired, giving Butters a concerned look which he replied to with a toothy grin.

"Sure is! What are we doin' tonight, fellas?"

"Getting the hell out of here." Cartman suggested, or demanded, looking surly.

"Why do you never want to drink at your own bar?" Kenny questioned, shaking his head at the brunette. "It's the only place where we can get free drinks!"

"Only because you assume every drink is free and leave without paying! It's horrible for my profits if I let the four of us drink for free all night long; therefore we are getting out of here."

Kenny rolled his eyes and mouthed 'douche' to Butters and me across the table. I shook my head and tried to mask my grin as Butters covered his mouth with his hand, shoulders shaking.

"All right, I guess if we have to leave we should get going." Kenny decided, glancing at the large Miller Lite clock above the bar. "It's already past eleven."

The rest of us nodded in agreement and got out of our booth to make our way to the exit. We all stepped outside and stood in front of the door for a few minutes, taking in the dramatic change of atmosphere; from loud and pulsing to unbelievably still and silent.

"Well," I started, glancing around at everyone. "Where are we going?"

"The only other bar in town." Kenny replied, his head tipped up and looking at the stars through the cloud of thick smoke produced by his cigarette.

As we all started towards the parking lot, Kenny grabbed my arm, making me slow down a bit.

"Do you mind riding with Butters?" He whispered, his breathe forming a haze of fog in the cold.

"No, not at all."

"Kay, thanks man."

I nodded and sped up a bit until I was walking next to the small blond.

"Hey Butters," I started, throwing an arm around his shoulders. I felt him jump a little, but he smiled at me nonetheless. "You care if I ride with you?"

Butters gave a suspicious glance over his shoulder at Kenny, who was just getting into his own car. "Of course you can ride with me, Kyle." He agreed, though for the first time his naturally joyful tone seemed a bit forced.

I paused before getting into Butters small, white ford and looked over at Kenny, just a few cars down, who was waiting to follow us out of the parking lot. He was obviously extremely overprotective of Butters, wanting me to keep an eye on him even on the short drive across town. I felt unbelievably awful knowing that Butters getting attacked tonight could have been my fault, so I felt like I had no other option but to accept. This new side of Kenny was something I had never seen before though, and it intrigued me. Had he always been like this, but never found the right person to trigger it, or was this some change in demeanor brought around by whatever strange things that had appeared to happen since my absence?

I sighed, hoping to find a chance to figure out what exactly had been going on around here before it was too late, and I had to go back to Seattle.

* * *

**A/N: **I hope you all liked it! I felt like it was a little bumpy in some parts, but I kind of liked the final outcome. Expect the next update to be much sooner than the last!

Oh, and as always I want to know all of my readers favorite parts! It really brightens my day :) And if you're wondering, my favorite part was when Kyle was drunk and Cartman had to take care of him.

Don't forget to review, guys! It will help motivate me to not take so long on the next chap... :)


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